Legend of the Guardians: The Redux
by Mixmaster226
Summary: Many of us have seen the movie, but what would it have been like if Zack Snyder had combined his alternative plot, with much more material from the original book series..? Rated T for animal violence
1. Dreams are Who We Are

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole, or the Guardians of Ga'Hoole book series. Sad but true._

**He****llo fello readers. this is my very first fanfic, so please be polite. I'm sure that many Ga'Hoole fans, like myself, were slightly dissapointed by how so little was copied from Katheryn Lasky's book series and put into the movie. So, here's my perspective of how i could have played out if more was taken from the books. enjoy**

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><p>As the sun dawned on the Forest Kingdom of Tyto, a male Barn Owl alighted on the thick branch of the fir tree he called home. With a dead mouse in his talons, he walked across the limb and into his hollow. Once inside, he was greeted by the sight of his lovely mate, Marilla, and his three offspring; his sons Kludd and Soren, and Eglantine.<p>

As Noctus joined his mates' side, he watched with amusement as Soren and Eglantine reenacted their favorite tale; The Battle of the Ice Claws. Soren, who by now was almost fully fledged, save for a few extra down feathers, was wearing a fake helmet woven from two leaves on his head. He made mock lunges and playful swipes with utter jubilance at Eglantine, who was quite literally a small fluff ball, wore a fake beak cover mad from grass. As they playfully sparred, depicting two owls in combat, their older brother Kludd, simply scoffed silently. About three feet away, Mrs. Plithiver, the owl family's blind Nest Maid Snake, with her extraordinary sensabilities, was the only occupant in the hollow that could detect Kludd's annoyance.

"My talons are upon you!" Soren said triumphantly. "Your time of terrorizing the owl kingdoms are over!"

"Not so fast," Eglantine retorted while trying to sound threatening. "Your no match my army of evil!"

"Well Perhaps," Soren mocked as he dodged one of Eglantine's tiny wings, which had just started to show signs of feathers growing in. "But I am Lyze of Kiel! And I have assembled my own army, the Guardians of Ga'Hoole!"

"Soren." Eglantine said in a whiney tone. "You said that this time, _I_ would be Lyze of Kiel."

"Come on now, next go. Okay?" Soren asked, dropping his act for a more serious moment.

"Well..." Eglantine said dangerously. "I hope you're not lying, to Metal Beak!"

With that, Eglantine ran forward, letting out a cute battle cry. Her head collided with Soren's stomach region, nearly knocking the wind out of him. With a triumphant shove, he sent his little sister skidding a foot away from him, only to discover that her grass beak ornemant had been damaged in the tussle.

"My beak! Da!" She said, beckoning for her father.

The larger Barn Owl simply churred. "Okay now, enough, young owlets. Time for bed."

"Yes, _please_. enough stories about the _Guardians_." Kludd said, sounding exasperated.

"Oh now Kludd, stories a part of our culture. And our history; we learn from them."

"Even after the seventh-hundredth time we here them?"

"Yes, even then," Noctus jokingly mocked. "Unless, son, you already know all there is about history?"

"Well, I know that the Guardians win the battle!" Soren jumped in.

"Soren, it's _just_ a story," Kludd scoffed

"It is _not_!" Soren shot, turning his head around to face his brother with a glare.

"Here we go again," Mrs. P whispered to Marilla, already knowing where this was headed, thanks to Kludd's less than admirable mannerisms.

"I mean da, have you _ever_ seen a Guardian?" Kludd asked with a very serious tone, even standing up higher with emphasis.

"Kludd, just because you can't see something, doesn't mean it isn't _real_. Noctus responded, calmly as always. "It's like feeling something in your gizzard. And through out gizzards, the voices of the ages whisper to us, and tell us what's right." He said in a most profound manner. While Soren and Eglantine listened to their father with foucs and admiration, Kludd, however, was unmoved: it was as if the words had passed through one ear slit, and out the other. However, Noctus' statement was true: An owl's gizzard was what allowed them to judge right from wrong; to trust others, and themselves.

"Well, that's enough for one night, dear." Marilla cut in. "Tomorrow's a big day; it's first branching for you boys." She said, motioning to Soren and Kludd. "Now off to bed." Afterwhich Marilla exited the hollow for the abandoned crow nest where she and Noctus slept.

"Yes, come along children, i've made the down extra soft for you, Eglantine," Mrs. P beckoned for the three youngsters.

As the climbed into their nest of twigs, mosses, and plucked down from their mothers' breast feathers, Soren noticed that his father was just at the hollow's entrance...

"Uh, Da?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think that right before you go, you could, uh, mabye tell me and Eg here the story one more time?" He asked with a face that no parent could resist. While Eglantine nodded in agreement, Kludd's right eyelid was close to twitching, but instead closed his ear slits and pretended to pay attention.

"Well...Alright then." Noctus said, giving in. waddling to a corner of the hollow, he picked up an old book in his talons; its cover was made of mink fur, iscribed with gold letters spelling: _Guardians of Ga'Hoole: Battle of the Ice Claws_. Placing the book on a small stand, he focused on the text and began to read:

"It happened in the old ages; long before I was a hatchling. It was a time when the world was plauged by a group of owls who called themselves the "Pure Ones". They led a crusade against us, their aim to take over all of the owl kingdoms. The Pure Ones were harsh and relentless in their quest for dominance; what they couldn't take, they burned to the ground; those they couldn't enslave, they destroyed. Owls, the noblest of birds, soon found themselves humbled, and in utter despair. Those who fought back were imprisoned, while those who surrendered were left forever earthbound. All would have been lost to the Pure Ones, but for another band of owls, who rose from the Sea of Hoolemere, and from the Great Ga'Hoole Tree itself, a group of warriors, selfless and couragous, who had sworn an oath to make strong the weak, mend the broken, and vanquish evil: the Guardians of Ga'Hoole. They followed their leader, Lyze of Kiel, to the Northern Kingdoms, where the Pure Ones were planning their next attack. The Pure Ones, led by the evil Surtr, or as he later came to be called "Metalbeak", annticipated the Guardians intervention and prepared to fight. Once both sides met, the Battle of the Ice Claws had begun. The two sides battled fiercely, turning the sky alive with feathers, blood, and clanking metal. Metalbeak's forces were stronger in numbers and seemed to gain the advantage. As the battle became desperate, the Guardians all turned to Lyze of Kiel, who heroically, in one..."

As the story neared its climax, Noctus, noticed that Eglantine was clutching her owliploppen doll to her body. "Should I Stop?"

Soren's concentration returned and he gasped. "what?"

"Well, you know, you all look a little...You know what? I'm gonna finish this another time. Goodlight." And with that, Noctus hopped out of the hollow's entrance to join his mate, who had by now already fallen asleep.

"Soren! What happened next? I want to hear it from you this time!" Eglantine pleaded.

"Alright. When all hope seemed lost, Lyze of Kiel heroically, in one sweep of his talons, clawed the beak and feathers clear off the evil leader's face! The Guardians were victorious, and they returned to the Great Tree, where they wait to face evil again."

"How can we find the Tree, Soren?" Eglantine asked curiously.

"Well," Soren began. "The Great Tree can be found by any owl who is pure of heart, and guided by the spines of an Echidna mystic. At least that's what the book says."

Almost immediatley afterward, an audible groan could be heard from Kludd. "Can we just go to sleep already?"

"But I like the story." Eglantine whined.

"I know." Kludd huffed. "I've heard it a million times." He said turning around." Look you have a soft head, Soren; I think Da may have filled it with _stories_ and _dreams_."

"There's nothing wrong with dreams."

"Well, that's the difference between us brother: I have mine when i'm asleep. Now will _you_ please go to sleep?" Kludd said as he nestled down and closed his eyes.

Soren was slightly downhearted by Kludd's hurtful words. He always was different from the rest of the family. He never showed any interest in the traditions, and nobody was pleased by it. Accepting yes, but not pleased.

_The Guardians _are_ real. I feel it in my gizzard_. soren thought as he tucked his sister under his wing.

"Soren." Eglantine yawned. "Da says that dreams are who we are." She softly said as she quickly drifted off.

_He's right, Eg,_ Soren said to himself as the lethargy got the better of him and fell asleep as several rays of sunlight filled the hollow.

**So, Did you like it? Hate it? Was it so&so? please review.**


	2. Branching

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series._

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><p>After the events of the previous morning, the owl family had finally woken up and began their nightly routine. It was one night away from a full moon. By then it would be a complete moon-cycle. When Kludd, Soren, and Eglantine had first awoken, they were greeted by the sight of a freshly killed mouse that their father had brought. Their mother had torn the small animal apart into three equal pieces. Eglantine was already old enough to eat meat with the fur and bones. "The whole bit", as Noctus had called it. For young owlets, there were ceremonies related to what they ate. When the three owlets had hatched, they were first given their First Insect ceremony. After that it was the First Meat ceremony. Finally, it was the first Fur and Bones ceremony, which was what Eglantine had now completed. Soren's cut of the mouse contained the stomach. He could taste the blade of grass that it had eaten before its untimely death.<p>

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><p>With their gizzards grinding, Soren and Kludd were ready to start their first branching lesson. Outside of the hollow, Noctus and Kludd stood side by side on a branch close to the mouth of the hollow. While Soren prepared, Marilla, Eglantine, and Mrs. P watched eagerly.<p>

"Now, as I was saying…" Noctus was trying to say. But before he could finish, Kludd hopped of the branch and flapped as fast he could, aiming for a lower branch closer to the hollow.

"Look da! I'm gonna be the best flier!" As he said this, Kludd landed uneasily on the lower branch. Noctus sighed. He gracefully lifted into flight, and silently glided down to the branch, and faced his son.

"You have strength, Kludd. But owls make the best hunters for one reason alone..."

"Yeah I know, their silent flight," Kludd cockily answered. "And by the time I have my talons out –

"The mice will have run away, and you and your hatchlings will go hungry." Noctus interrupted. Kludd knew what he was talking about. He meant that Kludd had not yet perfected silent flight. How could his super-sensitive hearing have not heard it? He had remembered to preen his feathers. Preening kept a bird's feathers in check and repaired any damages. After collecting enough oil from a gland at the base of the tail in its beak, a bird would comb its feathers until spick and span. This also kept the edges of an owl's wings softened, allowing them to fly silently, without alerting prey. As Kludd went into a state of self-pity Soren walked up, wearing his toy Guardian helmet.

"Da! I'm ready!" he exclaimed.

"Well, young Guardian," Noctus churred. "I don't think your first branching lesson will be _that_ dangerous." He said, pulling the helmet of leaves off of his son's head. He put a reassuring wing on Soren's shoulder as he walked him to the edge of the branch.

"Now," Noctus began. "it's not about how much noise you make in the beginning, you just need to stretch your…" Before he could finish his sentence, Soren had leaped off of the branch and silently glided down to the tree limb below him.

"…Wings. Well done." Noctus said proudly. _Showoff._ Kludd thought.

"Beginner's luck," He said out loud. Without warning, Kludd jumped off, flapping wildly. This made each wing-beat clearly audible as Kludd drew closer to the branch that Soren was perched upon. Noctus looked on in disappointment. He was clearly struggling out-do Soren_._

As Kludd landed, he accidentally snapped off a branch that plummeted far to the ground below. Kludd breathed heavily, imagining what would happen in that was him falling. Glaux forbid.

"You know Kludd, I helps to picture where I'm gonna land," Soren said reassuringly. "Come on, I'll race you!" He said excitedly.

"Okay then, go!" Kludd quickly yelled as he took off as fast as he could. Before he could eve blink, Soren had already reached the branch Noctus was perched on.

"You had a head start!" Kludd accused.

"No I didn't!" Soren shot back.

"Enough," Marilla interrupted. "No more fighting. Noctus, let's get the boys inside, it's time to go hunting."

"Can we go with you on the hunt?" Soren asked, his voice laced with enthusiasm.

"Not tonight," Noctus said. "But when the time comes, at least you'll have the helmet for it." He said, placing the helmet on Soren's head.

As the young owls treaded back into the hollow, Marilla sighed and turned to her mate.

"Noctus, I know Soren is a bit of a dreamer. Do you worry for him?"

"Oh, I worry for both of them. It seemed like yesterday they were just hatchlings, and now they'll soon be grown and leaving the hollow," He sighed "I just want them to be prepared."

She quietly churred. "They'll be fine. Now come on." Without another word, they lifted off into flight and were gone.

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><p>Back in the hollow, Soren, Kludd, and especially Mrs. P, noticed Eglantine was beginning to convulse and gag.<p>

"Eglantine, are you alright?" Soren asked, concerned for his sister. However, she couldn't answer, for whatever that was caught in her throat prevented her from speaking.

"Oh it's alright dear. If it wants to come out, let it." Mrs. P reassured in her usual raspy voice. After another a minute of croaking and hacking noises, Eglantine spit out a compact, dark and wet object. It was a pellet.

"Wow, Eg! That is nasty!" Soren said, half-laughing.

"What an accomplishment," Kludd churred.

Eglantine stared down at the little wet blob, shivering and apparently shaken by what had just happened.

"What is it?" She asked in a shaky voice.

"It's your first pellet," Mrs. P said proudly.

"First?" Eglantine asked, "Y-you mean there'll be m-m-more?" Soren churred to himself. When he was Eglantine's age, he had acted almost the same way; terrified.

"Don't you recognize it Eg? It was the mouse you ate. It's all fur and bones now," Mrs. P said. She was marveling at the pellet. Blind Snakes prided themselves on working for owls, whom they considered the noblest of birds. Meticulous, the Blind Snakes had great disdain for other birds that they felt were less clean due to their unfortunate digestive processes that caused them to eliminate only sloppy wet droppings instead of nice and neat little pellets, which the owls yarped, or spit up. Although owls did digest the soft parts of their food in a manner in a similar manner to other birds, and indeed passed it in a liquid form, for some reason they were never associated with these lesser digestive processes. All the fur and bones and tiny teeth of their prey, like mice, that could not be digested in the ordinary way were pressed into little pellets, just the shape and size of the owl's gizzard. Several hours after eating, the owls would yarp them up. "Wet Poopers" was how many nest-maid snakes referred to other birds. Of course, Mrs. Plithiver was much too proper to use such coarse language.

"There's nothing to be scared of," Mrs. P continued. "Every owl yarps up pellets. In fact, I think I still have your brothers' first pellets. She said, gesturing towards Soren and Kludd with her head. The two brothers cringed with disgust and embarrassment. Mrs. P had shown Kludd's first pellet to Soren when he was Eglantine's age, and it was not a pretty sight, having been kept and preserved to the point at which it had decomposed slightly. As Mrs. P slithered away, ignoring Soren and Kludd's begging, Eglantine followed almost forgetting to excuse herself for the rather loud belch she had made when she followed the blind snake.

"Kludd, you wanna go out and try some more branching?" Soren whispered, wanting to have more fun outside.

"What? So you go out there and _show off_ again? Kludd asked rhetorically. "No thanks."

"Oh well, maybe you're right." Soren said in a teasing manner. "Maybe we should just, I don't know, stay inside and play "Battle of the Ice Claws" again? Before he knew it, his brother was already outside of the hollow.


	3. A Life worth Two Pellets

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>Kludd had just landed awkwardly on a branch, holding out his wings to balance himself as his talons scratched at the tree bark. He was still struggling to succeed, which Soren noticed.<p>

"Kludd? Could I just show you how, without you being so angry?" He asked innocently.

"Alright. Show me how," Kludd replied as he faked enthusiasm.

Soren took a few steps away, his back turned to his brother.

"Well, before I leap, I picture myself standing on a great cliff with the Guardians! Ready for battle!" as Soren said as he stretched out his wings for emphasis. Kludd silently scoffed to himself. _Not again._

"I leap off, gliding silently like Lyze of Kiel, the air's just carrying us alo–"

"That's enough!" Soren heard Kludd say in an extremely annoyed tone as he felt his brother's shoulder forcefully connect with his back. However, Soren was dangerously close to the edge of the tree branch and instinctively dug his talons into the bark as he nearly lost balance and quickly hoisted himself back up. His right wing, outstretched for balance, hit Kludd square in the breast, making him double over. as his upper body tipped over, Kludd's left wing smacked Soren hard in his back, and the brothers found themselves dangeling from the limb by their talons. Everthing around the two owlets seemed to slow as they both lost their grip and fell from the branch. Down they went, flailing their wings and screaming all the while. Luckily, their feathers managed to catch air, allowing them to slow their decent to the ground, but not without landing hard on their backs.

"Kludd, are you okay?" Soren asked, slightly disoriented. Instead of answering, Kludd simply groaned from the mild pain from the fall. The two owlets managed to pick themselves up. Nothing seemed broken.

"Oh no," Kludd said grimly as he looked around.

"We're on the ground," Soren noted in a shaky voice. However, compared to Soren, Kludd seemed to be more frightened about being on the ground than he was.

"We can't be here. This is – this is the worst place for an owl," he said, making no attempt to hide his fear. They slowly inched themselves closer to the base of the fir tree.

"I know," Soren agreed as he took in the scenery. "It's so weird down here," Soren was right. It _was_ weird down here. The dirt felt soft under his talons, and everywhere he looked, he saw ferns, bushes, dead leaves, vines, and tree trunks. The moonlight shone throught the trees, illuminating most of the forest. In one night from now, it would be a full moon, the second Soren had experienced in his life. But right now that wasn't important.

"No, no, no! We've gotta get back, we can't be here!" Kludd exclaimed frantically. He was right to be afraid; the Forest Kingdom of Tyto was known to have a menagerie of nightmarish ground predators. As a chill wind rose up, Soren remembered his father calling it something like "First Teeth of Winter". The very words made Soren shudder. When his father had first used this expression when Soren was only two weeks old, he had no idea what "teeth" were. Noctus explained that teeth were something birds didn't have, but many other animals did. They were for tearing and chewing food. He could just vaguely remember it:

_"Does Mrs. Plithiver have them?" Soren had asked. Mrs. P had gasped in disgust._

_His mother said, "Of course not, dear."_

_"Well, what are they exactly?" Soren asked._

_"Hmm," said his mother as she thought a moment. "Just imagine a mouth full of beaks - yes, very shark beaks."_

_"That sounds very scary."_

_"Yes, it can be," Marilla replied. "That's why you don't want to fall out of the hollow or try to fly before you're ready, because many predators on the ground have very sharp teeth."_

_"You see," Noctus broke in, "we have no need for such things as teeth. Our gizzards take care of all that chewing business. I find it rather revolting, the notion of actually chewing something in one's mouth."_

_"They say it adds the flavor, darling," his mother added._

_"I get flavor, plenty of flavor, in my gizzard. Where do you think the old expression 'I know it in my gizzard' comes from?"_

_"Noctus, I'm not sure of that is the same thing as flavor."_

_"That mouse we had for dinner last knight, - I can tell you from my gizzard where he had been of late. he had been feasting on the sweet grass of the meadow mixed with the nooties from that little Ga'Hoole tree that grows down by the stream. Good Glaux! I don't need teeth to taste..."_

Soren sighed; he might never be able to hear this gentle bickering between his parents again. He and Kludd had to somehow get back to the hollow. He tipped his head up. The fir tree was so tall, and he knew that their hollow was near the very top. What had his father said – ninety feet, one hundred feet? But numbers had no meaning for Soren at this rate. While he was a smart owl, he still had much to learn about numbers. But there was no time to think about that now. What mattered at the moment was getting back to Mrs. P and Eglantine. He then noticed a low branch that, if he and Kludd flapped hard enough, could reach, and then use their beaks and talons to shimmy up the trunk.

"If we could just make it up to that branch, I'm sure we could climb the rest of the way up. Come on, let's see." Soren said. He then flapped his wings as hard as he could. Despite the effort, he couldn't get more than two feet off the ground. He landed back down, panting heavily.

"Shh! Be quiet!" Kludd commanded, but kept his voice down. Although he wanted to get back to the hollow more than anything, he didn't want to attract attention from any animal that could be nearby.

Before he could say anything else however, their was a loud crunch as a twig in the distance snapped. Soren and Kludd froze.

"What was that?" Kludd asked uneasily.

Suddenly, without warning or sound, a wolverine leaped out from behind a fallen log, bolting towards Soren and Kludd as fast as its short legs could carry it. Instinctively, they arched their wings and lowered their heads in a threat display. But it was no use. The creature kept coming. Unsure of what to do, the two brothers turned around and tried to scuttle away as fast as they could. The beast singled out Kludd and pounced on him, pinning him to the ground.

"No!" Soren yelled as he leapt into the air, bringing his talon's on the wolverine's head. Kludd watched in shock as Soren clamped his beak onto the ravenous creature's right ear. This sent it into a frenzy. It bucked and thrashed its body around wildley, trying to shake Soren off. It let loose sickening howls and yelps of pain that echoed through the forest. Wolverines were well known for their short tempers and power. However, none of the lectures Noctus had given Soren or Kludd had prepared them for this monster in front of them.

With a finale thrash of its head it managed to dislodge Soren. He was thrown straight into the air. The wolverine reared up and snapped its jaws at the young owlet, showing a mouthful of sharp white teeth that sent a jolt of fear right through Soren's body. He flapped as hard as he could backwards, which did nothing but send him back and slamming into the base of the fir tree. He then felt the wolverine's weight as it pinned him to the tree. The cool autumn air made the snarling beast's breath visible as it snorted on him, tired from its effort.

"Kludd! Help me!" Soren begged. He turned his head around to see that Kludd was perched on one of the tree's roots, paralyzed with terror. Soren then faced his attacker. There was no reasoning with it; once a predator was on the hunt, there was no possibility of prey being able to persuade their killers to show mercy. Maybe this was what small animals felt when his parents had failed to catch and kill them instantly. Soren's entire life began to flash before his eyes. Seeing how he had only lived for nine weeks, the memories were short. Perhaps the best one was when Eglantine had first hatched. _Nine weeks. Nine weeks out of the shell and I'm a dead owlet. My life isn't worth two pellets._ Soren thought to himself as he began to accept his fate. Suddenly, just before the wolverine could rip his throat out, it was forced off of Soren's body by a speeding reddish-brown comet. The monster was rendered senseless as it was propelled through the undergrowth by its attacker. Soren and Kludd watched in amazement. It was an owl! Had their parents returned just in time to save them? No, this was something else…something that didn't seem right.


	4. Snatched!

_Disclaimer: I don not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>Soren barely had enought time to process the scene that unraveled in front of him before he felt talons wrap around him. Now he was being lifted. And they were flying fast, faster than he could think, faster than he could even imagine. His parents never flew this fast. He had watched them when they took off or came back from the hollow. They glided slowly and rose in lazy spirals into the night. But now, the earth raced by. Slivers of air blistered his skin. The moon rolled out from behind thick clouds and bleached the world with an eerie whiteness. He managed to swivel his head around, and saw that he was heading away from the tree he called home! Something was wrong. And as the the Forest Kingdom of Tyto appeared to grow smaller and dimmer, Soren couldn't help but look up.<p>

There was a great bushiness of feathers on the owl's legs. His head continued upward. This was a huge owl, it was even bigger than his parents - or was it even an owl? Atop this creatures head, over each eye, were two tufts of feathers that looked like an extra set of wings. The color of its feathers were brownish-red with vertical streakings, much like tree bark. Curiously, the feathers on the edges of its wings, and parts of the belly and breast, were dyed with deep red markings. On its beak, which Soren could clearly see, had what looked like a mouse rib bone sticking out through the nostrils. Soon it blinked and glanced down at him briefly, before looking back up. Yellow eyes. This was not a Tyto. In fact, it looked more like what his father had described as a Long-Eared Owl. They weren't native to Tyto forest, or related to Tytos either, but were owls just the same.

"Where are you taking me? My home's that way!" Soren frantically asked while glancing back at the fir tree. The owl made no response. Whoever he was, he was clearly not intersted in taking Soren back home.

"You can't do this!" he pleaded. Immediately Soren found his field of vision shrouded by a menacing yellow eye and facial disk.

"Keep your beak shut! Or i'll shut it for you!" it said with such ferocity that Soren quickly stopped talking. Never had he heard an adult owl speak so rude or harshley to him. The face pulled away, revealing a secong Long-Eared Owl. He too, had red markings and a rodent's rib in his nostrils. Most surprising, held firmly in his talons, was a struggling Kludd!

"Easy there, Jatt," the owl that carried Soren finally said. "You know what would happen if the Ablah General heard you snappin' at a Tyto."

"Whatever Jutt," the one that hedp Kludd replied. "Someone had keep him quiet."

"Who are you?" Soren said with desperation. As the words escaped his beak, the owl that was apparently named Jatt flew up close to his face again.

"Hey! No questions: No "who's", no "what's", no "why's"! you'll see soon enough," he ordered coldly.

"Let me go!" Kludd yelled and bit down hard on one of Jatt's toes.

Soren saw Jatt recoil in pain, and his grip on Kludd loosened. The next thing Kludd knew, he was tumbling end over end through the air, down towards a lake.

"KLUUDDD!" Soren yelled out to his brother, who was rapidly appearing smaller and smaller. With a groan of agictation, Jatt folded his wings in and performed a power dive down to the falling owlet. Kludd, who by now was seconds away from drowning, found himself caught by his captor just two feet above the water's surface. "_Thank you Glaux_!" he thought.

As Jatt flew back up to join Jutt, Soren could see That Kludd was now is a state of shock. He looked as if he were about to be sick, if that were possible.

"Strong beak that one," Jatt said.

"We'll put that to good use," Jutt churred.

However, Soren too was developing a sickening feeling in his gizzard. Who were these owls? Why would they kidnap him and his brother? What were they going to do to them? All he could do was wait and see.

As time passed by, Jatt and Jutt continued to fly throughout the night and well into the dawn, land below looking less familiar with each passing hour. By midday, the landscape was no longer a forest, but now a vast desert. There were cacti, sparse trees, and small watering holes. Soren would occasionally see animals drinking from them, such as camels or antelope.

It took a few minutes for Soren and Kludd to notice that they had been joined by four other owls. Each of them had red stripes painted on them. And shockingly, the each held a young owlet in their talons. Though unimportant, none of these kidnappers were Tytos. What was all of this about? This made no sense to the two brothers as their kidnappers pressed on.

To pass the time, Soren had eavesdropped on the kidnapper's conversations; it was mostly small talk, about where or how they had found the owlets they had snatched. Most of the owl's stories where the same; they had found the owlet while they had fallen from their hollow, trying to fly. This brought a wave of shame on Soren. The most important rule for an owlet was to never fly before they were ready, especially when their parents weren't around. That is almost exactly what he and Kludd had done. If he hadn't have goaded Kludd on into branching again, he would have never provoked him into pushing him, and they wouldn't be in this mess. He spent the rest of the day wallowing in his own guilt.

Hours had passed by, and now the sun was setting. The desert sand dunes had now faded into rocky crags and spires. Soren was then snapped out of his grieving by the sound of Jutt's voice.

"Hey Jatt, look; it's Grimble."

He heard Jatt chur to himself as what looked like a Boreal Owl, holding a much smaller owl, no bigger than a rat. It had a stubby tail, a brownish plumage and small yellow eyes. His observations were inturrpted by Jatt and Jutt's talking.

"Greatin's, Grimble." Jutt said in a very mocking tone.

"Jutt, Jatt. So..._nice_ to see ya both," the owl named Grimble replied sarcastically. Altough his voice was gruff, it almost had a light _tingg-tingg _tone to it.

"Did you, uh...get _half_ an owl there, Grimble?" Jatt asked before he and Jutt broke out into laughs.

"No Jatt, it's an Elf Owl; they're very small...but hard workers."

"Too old to carry a full-sized one?" Jatt teased and the laughing continued. As the unfirendly conversation played out above them, Soren took the chance to talk to the small bird in Grimble's talons, who looked very distraught.

"I'm Soren," he said in a gentle tone.

"I'm Gylfie," the small owl whispered in a small, sweet voice, confirming it to be a female.

"He said you were an Elf Owl."

"From Kuneer," Gylfie explained. "It's in the desert. Are you a Barn Owl?"

"Yeah, from Tyto Forest."

"Who are these owls?" Gylfie asked, desperate for answers. "Do you have any idea where they're taking us?"

"Hey! Stop talking," Grimble snapped. Gylfie recoiled in a quivering fit.

Shortly afterwards, the kidnappers began to descend, and Soren developed a feeling in his gizzard that he was soon going to find out.


	5. St Aegolious

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. They belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner Bros._

* * *

><p>As the owls began to descend, Soren blinked and looked down. There was not a tree, not a stream, not a meadow. Instead, immense rock needles bristled up, and cutting through them were deep stone ravines and jagged canyons. This was definately not Tyto. That was all he could think of at the moment.<p>

The owls then flew straight through a crevice and effortlessly weaved through the very narrow space. Soon it opened up to reveal a deep canyon with jagged rocks, and a misty bottom. Above, there was the sound of wind, distant yet shrill as it whistled across the upper reaches of this harsh stone world.

Soren quickley realised that the owls were headed for a large outcropping on one of the canyon walls. From this distance he could see a tall spire in the middle, with a bar running through the sides near the flat top. behind it, was a tall pole, sporting a blood red banner that was stetched out by a beam made from elephant tusks. As Soren quickly took in these details, he felt Jutt's grip on him loosen and he fell for three feet before tumbling onto the stone floor. The other owlets were soon to follow.

As Soren collected himself and stood up he and the other owlets, surrounded by several aggresive-looking owls-two Barn Owls and a Masked Owl from the looks of it-wearing gray metal helmets that hid their faces entirely. The metal battle claws on their feet clanked and raked the hard floor with each step. They had their wings stretched out, and were coralling the owlets into a tight crowd.

"Quiet! Listen to the old bird!" Jatt yelled over the chattering youngsters. Grimble walked over to the front of the crowd, flanked by Jatt and Jutt, and spoke loudly.

"Settle down now. Your parents and families have abandoned you," a gasp came from the crowd of shivering, simpering owlets. "So from now on, you'll be classified as orphans."

The words shocked Soren. He was not an orphan! he had a Mum, and a Da, perhaps not here, but out there somewhere. Orphan meant your parents were dead. How dare this old owl say he was an orphan.

"Horribly tragic, I know," Grimble continued. "But by the mercy of Glaux, you've been rescued, and brought here to St. Aegolius."

This was the most outrageous thing Soren had ever heard. He hadn't been rescued, he had been snatched away. If he and Kludd had been rescued, these owls would have flown up and dropped them back in their family's nest!

"In time, you will come to be greatful for the kindness shown to you," Grimble went on. "And you'll repay that kindness with labor. Some of you will be pickers, as well as part-time sitters, and some will be soldiers."

Meanwhile, as Soren desperately searched for Kludd in the mass of feathers and fluff, he managed to spot his new friend from before.

"Gylfie. Stay with me." he said as he walked over to her.

"In your ways, all will serve the High Tyto and the Pure Ones."

Gylfie, who was just as outraged as Soren, lept forward and yelled, "Let us go!"

Her plea was followed by an uproar of protest coming for the owlets, refusing to stay here, or serve anyone. Soren, however, was speechless. Pure Ones? The same Pure Ones from his favorite tale?

The chattering was then abruptly silenced by a piercing shriek that echoed through the canyon. They looked up, and two Barn Owls, fully armed with helmets and battle claws, flew overhead and landed on the pole that stuck through the large spier. There was a great _whoosh_ of air as a white blur zoomed just inches above the owlets' heads. The object, now confirmed to be a bird, glided up and landed on top of the spier between his or her body guards. The bird turned around, to reveal a large, female Barn Owl. She exhaled audibly and examened the audience below her before speaking.

"I am Nyra; Ablah General of St. Aegolius; and mate to the Lord High Tyto." Her voice was stern but sweet. "I know right now your you miss your families, but soon enough you will understand, that the Pure Ones, are your new family."

"The Pure Ones are not our family! Let us go!" Gylfie yelled in a pleading manner.

Soren agreed. How could these owls just take young fledglings from their homes and then call themselves their new family? It was outrageous!

"She's right! Let us go!" he jumped in.

Before anyone could blink, Nyra swooped down from her perch and was standing right in front of Gylfie. From this distance, Soren could now get a better look at her; of course the first thing he noticed was her blinding beauty. Her plumage was nearly pure white, save for a hint of tawny gold on her back. The lightest tinge of red dye lined the edges of her wings, tail feathers, and from her brow to her beak. Her facial disk, unlike most Tyto owls, which were usually heart-shaped, looked more like a full moon. And her eyes were like black riverstones, and the red dye on her eyelids brought them out even more. But he could see nothing behind those eyes at all. They were the eyes of a rutheless creature with barely a soul to speak of.

"What's this?" Nyra asked with agictation as shel looked down at Gylfie, who now cowered in fear. Soren could now see that Nyra was also large, very large. In fact, she was taller than either Jatt _or_ Jutt, both of whom now flanked her. He quickly became concerned. Nyra literally towared over Gylfie, and could basically do anything she wanted to her. Stepping forth he gingerly put a securing wing around Gylfie's body. He wasn't about to let this older owl bully his new friend.

"Tyto don't waste your time. You'll _soil_ your feathers," Nyra spat.

"You leave her be," Soren said bravely, holding his ground. Nyra raised her brow, impressed.

"Ah, _spirited_ little Barn Owl," Nyra feigned surprise. "How touching. You and your patch of filth will stay together then...as pickers," she responded, her voice dripping with venom.

Soon, Soren, Gylfie, and many of the captured owlets found themselves being herded away by the owls that had captured them.

"Perhaps when you remember your nobility, young one," Nyra continued, "we can make a soldier of you."

"What about my brother?"

"Oh? Where's he?"

"Kludd!" Soren called into the crowd. Kludd, the only other Barn Owl present, tried to keep his head down.

"Owlet," Nyra said, walking up to the young owl, "That one say's you're his brother. Would you care to join him?"

Kludd took one look at Soren, glared as if his plea were an insult, and looked away.

"I didn't think so," Nyra muttered, pleased.

As the owls and the snatchers and soldiers herded the owlets away, they left behind a Masked Owl, two Grass Owls, and a Sooty Owl, all of whom were probably no younger than Soren or Kludd.

"Now there's a soldier," Nyra said, and Kludd looked up to her, humbled. He also felt something else, something...difficult to describe.

* * *

><p>The line Soren found himself walking in wound its way through a series of of deep, narrow gorges. It was like a tangled trails through the gaps and canyons and tunnels of this place called St. Aegolius, or St. Aggies, as he heard some of the guards say. Soren had the unsettling feeling that he might never see Kludd his family again, and even worse, it would be impossible to ever find one's way out of these stone boxes and into the forest world of Tyto, with its immense trees and sparkling streams. He broke from his trance by the sound of Gylfie's small, sweet voice.<p>

"Thank you," she whispered, grateful to Soren for standing up for her. "Soren, you know you don't have to be here with me. You should be with your _brother_."

"No, Gylfie. I could never be with those Tytos," he said, disgusted by how Nyra compared to herself and himself to Gylfie. She obviously looked down to Gylfie, in more ways than one. "I don't know why Kludd would just go with them like that."

"Not everyone makes the right descisions; but you did."

They had finally came to a stop in a circular stone pit. In the center, stood Grimble.

"Okay now," he began. "From this point on, you will refer to yourselves as the number designation we give you. And as time goes by, if you prove yourselves, you'll earn your true name. Now line up and let's begin. After this, you'll follow us to the glaucidium."

_But my true name is Soren. The name my parents gave me_. The words pounded in his head, his gizzard trembling with protest.

"Finally," A young, half-fleged Spotted Owl who stood next to Soren said to herself.

"Why would you want another name?" Soren whispered to her.

"Hortense. You wouldn't like that name either. Now hush, they'll hear us," she answered back.

"Oh, and one more thing!" Jutt suddenly yelled. "During your time at St. Aggies, you are not to ask any questions! Questions soften the mind, and are therefore discouraged! Anything that starts with a "wh-" we don't trust!"

Jatt then spoke up immediately. "So if we catch any of you lot askin' a question out loud, you'll be forced to go through," he churred, "_laughter therapy_."

Soon the owlets nervously line up and recieved a number from Grimble one at a time. Soren became uneasy when he and Gylfie became seperated by Hortense's body. As the little Elf Owl recieved her new designation, she recieved a large, dead moth to eat. As the young Spotted Owl named Hortense came up next, Soren could faintly hear the words "12-8" escape from Grimble's beak. While normally a Barn Owl's extraordinary hearing could have picked up the whole sentence, in here, with the echoing and endless clicking of owl's talons on the rocks were almost deafening. As Soren ranted, he soon found himself face to face with old Boreal Owl.

"From this point on, you will be known as 12-1. Never forget that. Now eat," he mumbled, dropping a large cricket at Soren's talons.

As the young Barn Owl picked up the insect in his beak and proceeded to swallow it whole, he felt another owl's wing hit him in the back, nearly making him choke.

"Move it," he heard Jatt bark.

As Soren walked forward down a small tunnel with the other owlets, he managed to catch up with Gylfie.

"What was your number?" he asked as quietly as he could.

"12-5. And yours?"

"12-1." he paused. "Well...I wonder what they're gonna do to us now?"

Suddenly, Soren and Gylfie found themselves oustide of the canyon and at the edge of a huge rocky plain, surrounded by stone peaks, cliffs and spires. In front of them were dozens upon dozens of owlets, each resting upright and looking straight up to the sky. In the center of the crowd, a large pillar of rock jutted up from the earth, where a Sooty Owl dressed in Pure One armor perched, watching the owlets intensly: behind him, was the silvery light of the full moon. As Soren and Gylfie were brought into a row of owlets, including Hortense, Jatt and Jutt began to speak at timed intervals, with jutt starting:

"Tonight, we think you little ones could use a good rest-"

"So sit back, tip your beaks up to the light of the glorious full moon-"

"_And sleep._" They both said in a sinister tone.

Soren was, at this point, beyond confused. What kind of owl slept at night? As unbelievable as it seemed, he himself was feeling a bit tired. And as he looked around, many of the other owlets were starting to doze off, except Hortense, who was now completely out cold. Just as his eyelids drooped, he was snapped to attention by Gylfie's voice.

"Soren! We musn't fall asleep. I think their trying to moonblink us," she whispered frantically, her voice laced with dread.


	6. Moonblinking

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. They belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner Bros._

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><p>"They're what?" It felt good so good to say a whh sound that Soren almost missed the answer.<p>

"Didn't your parents tell you about the dangers of sleeping under the full shine?

"What's full shine?" Soren asked.

"Well you know about the newing and dwenking, don't you?" Gylfie asked, refereing to how during the newing, the moon would grow thicker and fatter until it was round, and when the dwenking came, it would grow thin until it dissapeared.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well," Gylfie whispired quickly but clearly. "Sometimes in the desert, when the moon was full, owls who were exhausted from hunting would collapse under it. When they woke up, they just weren't the same...like they had forgotten who they were."

_Good Glaux,_ Soren thought, horrified.

"Gylfie, we _have to_ get out of here." he said, never having been more serious in his life.

As Gylfie feigned sleeping, she noticed the stars that made up the constellations of the Little Racoon and the Whale's Fin. She, like many animals of the desert, has been taught to navigate using the night sky. If memory served, the Desert of Kuneer was directly east of their current location.

"I know these stars. I could get us away from here, but they only way to get out is to fly, and we can't." she said, crushed by the realization.

"Not yet we can't," Soren said. "And we're gonna learn how. As soon as we can, when they aren't watching, we are going to stretch out our wings, and flap as hard as we can."

"That sounds like a good idea," whispired Gylfie.

"And it will work, as long as we stick together," he reassured.

The two brave young owlets spent the rest of the night eyes closed, looking up, and awake. They had learned that they could avoid sleep if they thought of what they desired the most; being able to fly. And right now, Soren could not think of anything greater. He imagined climbing higher than the clouds, far away from these wretched canyonlands, and back to the safety of his hollow. Their his mum, da, Eglantine, and Mrs. Plithiver would greet him with love and utter happiness. He even thought about the Guardians of Ga'Hoole. If the stories were true, then mabye they would come here, defeat the Pure Ones once more, and free him and all of the other prisoners. One could only hope.

**Sorry for this chapter being so short. I thought that saving the pelletorium scene would be better. anyway, please review.**


	7. The Pelletorium

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. They belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner Bros._

* * *

><p>It seemed like a whole eternity until the sun had finally risen, and for some reason, Soren hardly felt tired. Perhaps it was fact that he and Gylfie had triumphed over the temptation and still had a hold of their sense of being. Soon the horror of the full moon's effects filled Soren's eyes as he tentatively looked around. The other owlets stood still, with their beaks open, and some with their tongues hanging out. They're eyes, which had once varied from yellow, to amber, or black, now had glazed, milky-white coverings.<p>

_Oh no,_ Soren thought to himself as he waved a wing in front of another owlet's face, who made absolutely no reaction.

"All right now, enough beauty rest, little ones. It's time to get working, come with us now," he heard Jatt say.

The owlets soon became a moving mass of feathers and down as they lazily walked back into the opening that led to the thin crevices. This was bad. Soren soon found himself a few owlets behind Gylfie, who was desperatley trying to keep up with him.

"Gylfie," Soren whispired. "We need to act moonblinked." She nodded in agreement, and they tried their best to mimic the half-dead gate that the other owlets made. As they reentered and walked back through the canyons from last night, they ended up walking down another canyon.

"Keep moving, no lagging," Jatt ordered. "And welcome to the pelletorium!" Jutt continued, pride in his voice.

Nothing could have prepared Soren and Gylfie for the shock of what met their eyes as they entered the pelletorium. It was an enormous four-leafed clover-shaped room, ingeniously carved into the solid rock of St. Aggies. The floor sloped down in levels like stairs, and in the center, was a small pool of sickley greenish water, and in the center of that, a pillar occupied by a battle-ready Grass Owl. everywhere the looked, there were owlets of all kinds, picking apart pellets that had been yarped up from other owls, as guards patrolled the rows of brainwashed workers. This made Gylfie's gizzard churn with disgust. Torches lined the walls, their wichs ablaze with fire. In the center of the ceiling, was a circular opening that led to what looked like a vast cave. perching on a chunk of stone jutting out from the opening's rim, was Nyra. Soren could have recongized her pale figure a mile away. With his sharp vision, he could see she was leering down at the poor moonblinked owlets, before talking to someone Soren couldn't see. He hoped she hadn't noticed him or Gylfie. If Hagsmire, the owl hell, were on Earth, it would be here.

* * *

><p>High up above, Nyra stood upon her perch, as the five young Tytos in front of her took in the sight below them. Three Grass Owls, a Masked Owl, a Sooty Owl, and the Barn Owl named "Kludd". She was slightly dissapointed that her scouts had only brought back six Tyto owls, but beggers couldn't be choosers. But at least she had new Tyto recruits to begin with. Each species differed slightly, but were pure nonetheless. Barn Owls, such as herself, were characterized by their white faces and undersides, as well as their tawny gold and peppered backsides. Masked Owls, on the other hand, were darker in coloring, and looked as though they had a brown mask stretched over their faces. Grass Owls resembled a cross between the previous species', but had slightly longer legs for life on the ground. And Sooty Owls looked like they had bathed in ash, their feathers a shadowy grey. But what these species lacked in color pattern, they were recognized as Tytos by their heart-shaped faces, raspy calls, and long legs. For these simiularities, the Pure Ones believed that Tyto owls were superior to all birds, including other owls.<p>

"You musn't feel sorry for them down there," Nyra spoke softly, unphased by the obvious slave labor taking place two stories below her. "As lower species, they're _fortunate_ to serve a higher cause. As Tyto owls, their natural superiors, you too are apart of that plan; one that will soon bring order to the owl kingdoms, when the Pure Ones will rule; a new era will dawn."

Kludd was having trouble taking this all in. Last night, he had been bathed in notions such as these. He was given full portions of rat that could be found everywhere in St. Aggies. They never yelled at him, never struck him; only encouragement and praise for his purity, as Nyra called it. while he did have an uneasy feeling in his gizzard about just what was going on, but the way Nyra's soothing voice and undying beauty reached him just kept him pressing on.

"Now," she continued. "Prove your greatness, and rise." she motioned with her head upward.

Without any hesitation, the young Tytos flapped hard and soon they were slowy, but steadily rising higher into the air. Kludd felt his muscles being strained; his own father hadn't pushed him this far. But as soon as he heard Nyra yell "Higher!", he flapped even harder.

* * *

><p>As Soren and Gylfie lined up in a row, once again feigning their moonblinked act, a young Snowy Owl slowy walked by each new owlet. a moonblinked Saw-Whet Owl tossed an old pellet to each of them, even hitting some in the face. Not that they cared, anyway.<p>

"Let's get this party started!" Jutt announced with enthusiasm.

"Let's get picking!" Jatt added, his timing perfect.

"Uggh," Gylfie whispered to her companion with disgust. "Other owl's _pellets_."

"You know, mabye it would be better if we_ had_ been moonblinked." Soren churred, to which Gylfie joined in.

"Now start picking through those pellets," Jutt ordered.

The owlets held down the pellets with a talon and pecked out mouthfulls of the bits of bone and fur. While the idea disgusted Soren, he reluctantly reached down and picked at his pellet as well, remebering to spit out the disgusting bits of undigested food. Gylfie had no choice but to do the same. After about ten minutes of the grotesque labor, Jatt and Jutt ordered their slaves to cease as they walked over to an owlet just across from them.

"We look at that," Jatt said as he closely examined the contents of the owlet's pellet.

"Eureka."

"Great job, 85-7."

"Allright everyone, gather 'round," Jutt orderd, and the newer owlets filed in closer.

"Hey, you with the blank expression!" Jutt barked at the Spotted Owl who was once Hortense failed to do as told.

"That's _all_ of 'em," Jatt reminded his brother.

"Oh right. Now pay attention! He's talking," he continued. Soren had to admit, these were two very despicable owls, from their brutality towards their slave, to their unpleasant sense of humor.

"Now _this_, is the kind of pellet you're picking for;" Jatt spoke as he held it up high in his talons. "Mouse fur, mouse bones, that's all _standard_." As he said this Jutt reached over and picked out a small bit of debris from the item in question. It was smaller that a pebble, and had a glint coming off it, much like a distant star. It was then Jutt's turn to talk.

"But the secret, _rare_ ingrediant in _this one_, is what mister mouse _ate_. A metal fleck," he said as he pinched it between his talons, and looked directly at Soren. He was getting uncomfortable as Jutt stood a foot away from him, waving the fleck around in his face. It was almost as if his words were directed at _him_.

"Now i'm very perceptive," he continued.

"He is."

"And I'm detecting...You!" Jutt suddenly shoved the fleck into Soren's beak, making him flinch. "Want to take this fleck, to where all the flecks belong." Both he and Jatt pointed their wings out to several crudely cut steps that let to another narrow canyon that appeared to have a blue light emmiting from it. As Soren slowly walked toawrds the stairs, Jutt thwacked him hard in the back.

"Come on, move it." Soren became nervous; first they seemed to be talking to only him about the flecks, then they physically abused him. Was it just part of their sick games, or could they see through his ruse? The thought escaped his as he climed up the steps to where the flecks were to be taken. the steps were so high that he had hop up just to get up one. As he reached the top, he was greeted by the sight of a crude weighing scale. On one end, the skull of a deer, which was clearly heavier than the basket of flecks adjacent to it. But what Soren found odd, were the long tendrils of vibrant blue energy that emmited from the pile of the tiny metal bits.

As Soren got closer, a small wave of energy lashed out like a snake and snagged the fleck in his beak, tugging him in further. Soren's whole body became incredibly weak as a another tendril of energy tore through the center of his body. He doubled over, but held the fleck firmly in place. As he tried to hold his head up, a small but shrill squeak could be heard from above. A small animal, no bigger than a chipmunk, dropped down from above and hissed at him. It was a Vampire Bat. These little creatures, unlike most bats, enjoyed drinking the blood of large animals as they slept, and leaving behind a painful bite. Even though owls found this disgusting, bats, especially these ones, were rare and tasty treats. But now Soren found himself at this bat's mercy.

It cautiously inched towards him, its expression hateful yet pleased. But as Soren flinched from the pain in his gizzard, the bat lept bat and hissed. With a quick sniff, it lunged forward and swiped the fleck out of Soren's beak, and the pain receded. The bat walked up to the bucket of blue aura and the fleck flew from its mouth and into the pile. The miniscule addition of weight proved heavier than the deer skull, and the bucket tipped down to the stone floor. The bat screeched loudly, and through a gap in the ceiling, a much larger bat, a Flying Fox from the look of it, swooped down and clucthed the bucket by its handles and lifted it off of the scale. Wheeling around in middair, the bat flew off with its cargo and out through the opening it came in from.

Soren staggered back down the stone steps, still trying to recover from the power of the flecks. He was soon greeted by Jatt and Jutt, who pressed their faces close to his.

"So, how was the your little adventure, 12-1?" Jutt sneered, and the two churred evilly. Soren was now sure they were onto him. That could be confirmed by the thwack he recieved to the head from Jatt's left wing. As the poor young Barn Owl fell to the side, the two Long-Eared Owls laugher over him. Their laughter, however, was cut short by the flapping of wings and the agictated grunt of the Ablah General herself, Nyra.

"Oh! Your Pureness!" they both said, bowing low to the ground. "To what honor do we have the pleasure of you visiting?" Jutt nervously asked. Soren churred to himself. He never thought he'd be happy to see Nyra, or see Jatt and Jutt cower in fear.

"Spare me, you bumbling half-whits!" she snapped "Why do you deface the Pure One's name by striking this young Barn Owl? Have you forgotten your places?" she cracked both of them hard on the heads.

"No, your Ablah!" Jatt pleaded. "We had reason to believe that this one was not fully moonblinked, and was acting!" he said, gesturing to Soren, who now pretended to be half moonblinked.

Nyra strutted close to him and looked deeply into his eyes. "Hmm, you're right. But, perhaps we should keep him this way. He is a Tyto after all. As time passes, mabye he will learn to recognize his place as a Pure One." She shot the brothers a glare. "You two are in luck. Had your actions been in cold blood, you'd have been put to death by the High Tyto himself!" She sighed. "You're lucky that two birds as impure as you have any formal rank to speak of. Now back to your jobs, Lieutenants." And with that, Nyra flew back up to the opening in the ceiling and dissapeared.

As Soren got back to his place by Gylfie, she worryingly jumped to his side. "Soren, what happened?"

"Gylfie, those birds are going to do something terribly wrong with those flecks, and they're on to us. We have to find Kludd and get out of here."

"I know! But how?" Gylfie half-asked.

"Allright! Feedin' time!" Jatt shouted.

Soren sighed "I don't know Gylfie, but we will."


	8. Right Side Up in an Upside Down World

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. They belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner Bros._

* * *

><p>As the rest of the day passed by, Soren began to better understand the process of their work: The moonblinked owlets would find flecks in the pellets, and then take their find to the weighing scale, where the supervising Vampire Bat would take and place them in the bucket. It was apparent that the other owlets who had succumbed to moonblinking were unaffected by the flecks' blue radiance. And when the bucket was full, one of the Flying Foxes would take it away and carry it off to...he still had yet to figure that part out. On the bright side, the moonblinking was starting to ware off, as the owlets were starting to talk a little bit.<p>

As Soren and Gylfie picked through the pellets they were given, the young Spotted Owl formally known as Hortense, noticed Soren's precise snips and pecks he made with his beak.

"12-1, your beak work, good," she said, her speech broken and slurred. "I wish I, were good as you."

"Thank you," Soren replied as he tried to imitate the primitive speech that this poor owlet was making.

"You welcome. But need not be polite. Wastes energy. Politeness its own reward - like flecks."

"What is so important about these flecks?" The question just slipped out. His whole time here, Soren had desperatley wanted more information on these flecks. They were tiny pieces of metal, and could be used as powerful weapons if gathered en masse, he knew that much. But that still didn't explain just what the Pure Ones wanted with them. Behind him, a small owlet gave a small piercing shriek that contrasted sharply with his normally flat tone. "Question alarm! Question alarm!" Two ferocious-looking Barn owls, they battle claws sharp and curved, swooped down and plucked up Soren effortlessly. Gylfie gasped and looked away, unable to bear the sight.

Soren felt as though his gizzard were dropping to his talons as the two Pure Ones soared with him dangling between them. They were transporting him in a most painful manner. Each one held a wing in his talons, their battle claws digging into the flesh. And as they spiraled up, Soren felt beneath him not the cushion of captured air of which his father had often spoken, but instead a surge of noisy vibrations that seemed to pummel him from all sides.

"They are laughing at you, 12-1! They laugh so hard the air is tossed with their chuckles!" Grimble called out.

"You, Tyto," Nyra's voice could be heard. "You are out first subject of the day for laughter therapy." Soren remained mute. No matter how many questions might batter his brain, his imagination, or dance of his beak, he would never ask them. As the two guards alighted down on the stone floor, the laughter of the owlets, guards, handlers, and previously-sleeping bats ricocheted off the stone walls. It filled Soren's head with a terrible clatter. He thought he might go yoicks right there and start screaming. But instead, he collapsed onto the floor, looking straight up at the ceiling.

"Tsk tsk, Tyto," Nyra suddenly appeared over him. "You are a noble, and superior breed of owl, and yet you choose to toil with these lowly slaves. I must admit, even your brother is not this arrogent." Soren cringed at the idea of Nyra training Kludd to be a Pure One. "But if you choose to side with the weak," she sighed. "Have it your way. And now," she called to everyone in the pelletorium. "For the best moment of all in laughter therapy!" The air stirred, and from above, the bats who had been idlley hanging from the ceiling, swooped down and circled over the unfortunate young Barn Owl.

_Just my d_ay, he thought.

* * *

><p>Soren had to spend the rest of his working hours with some of his feathers encrusted with dried bat guano. The nasty little mammals had defecated on him as part of the laughter therapy. And the bats cackled in joy the whole time: Bats hated owls, and Nyra's orders were simply too fun to pass up. It was so disgusting and humiliating, that Soren almost cried from the stress.<p>

"I'm so sorry," Gylfie said to him, shpwing nothing but sympathy.

"Don't be," he responded. "They would've done the same to any of us. Besides, I broke the rule and asked a question. I brought it upon myself."

Gylfie stood up straight and looked her friend dead in the eye. "Don't say that," she almost yelled. "It's their fault for forbidding questions in the first place, Soren. They're trying to enslave us and make us forget who we are. That's why we have stay strong and figure out how to escape. Understand?"

Soren just stood there, beak agape. How could such as small owl muster so much bravery and intelligence? He was underestimating his little friend more and more.

"You're right," he said, giving in. "Thank you."

"No problem."

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><p>As night approached, the two owlets, and many more, were sent to their "sleeping chambers" to rest. One could hardly call it a sleeping chamber, since each of them were just deep holes cut into the walls, just big enough for an owl to hop inside of and nestle down.<p>

"Soren," Gylfie whispired to her friend, who was in the very next chamber to the right of her. "I think that this whole moonblinking ordeal might be worse than I thought."

"Really?" Soren asked disbelievingly, unsure of how being moonblikned could get much worse as it already was.

"Earlier when I was waiting for my next pellet, I saw another owlet looking at a large hole in the wall."

"Yeah?"

"Well," she continued. "When I walked up to him and said "sky", and I even gestured towards the clouds that I could see, he looked at me without any comprehention. Moonblinking doesn't just take away who you are, it also erases your general sense of what it means to be a bird!"

Soren gasped, shocked.

"That's why we have to get out of here sooner than expected. The next full moon isn't that far off, and if the Pure Ones try to moonblink us again, they might actually succeed!"

"Well they won't," Soren said. "No matter how hard they try to break us, we _will_ resist. And once we can successfully fly, the minute they turn their backs..."

"Listen up!" Grimble shouted. "When you wake up, you'll all be transferred to work in the eggorium! Is that clear?"

"Yes," the owlets droned.

"Good," Grimble said approvingly. "Now sleep. You all must be tired." The moonblinked owlets immediately closed their eyes and drifted off.

Soren sighed. "Well goodlight, I guess."

"Goodlight, Soren," and without another word, the two brave owlets dozed off into a deep, and much-needed sleep.


	9. Moon Scalding

**This is a chapter that I had previously not included, and now here it is. Sorry for no updates on the current storyline.**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>There was an odd rythym to the days and nights at St. Aggie's, where owls were expected to sleep at night and work during the day. The moon dwenked, the world darkened , and once more it was the time of the newing. Mabye it was not at all dreadfull at St. Aggie's after all. Soren and Gylfie were adapting to the routine very well; pick pellets, give them to the bats, then resist moonblinking now and then. The only thing they had trouble adjusting to was the sleep: Moonblinked owlets needed considerably less rest than normal ones, and that fact was beginning to take its toll on the two friends.<p>

All of this was a reminder of what these owls had planning; total destruction. All of the owl kingdoms would burn again as they once did so long ago. A heiarchy of all owls would be established, and the lesser species would be enslaved and left in squalor. Why? Soren had asked himself often, but then realized that the Pure Ones, as they called themselves, didn't need a reason. Even more disturbing was a new idea of Soren's. _Prehaps,_ he thought, _these owls are not owls at all but rather hagsfiends in owls' feathers_. Hagsfiends, the demons of the bird world who plagued owlkind in the ancient times. Their ragged black feathers, their cruel demeanors, and their bright yellow eyes that could turn red with rage, were all feared and hated. However, they were all rendered extinct around the first time Hoole, the first and only king of owls, claimed his throne.

It was the third night of the first full shine now. Even with a fraction of it beggining to disappear, the moon still had its dangerous mind-numbing effects. Soren and Gylfie emerged from these periods of full shines exhausted, but they had somehow managed to resist moonblinking so far. Their determination had paid off.

At least it had worked up until this second night of first full shine.

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><p>"Hey, you two!" a screech shredded the air around them. It wasn't Jatt or Jutt, or even Grimble, but a wiley Burrowing Owl who was surveying the moonblinked owlets. His name was Tarn, and he was the highest ranking non-Tyto of the Pure Ones. He swooped down and landed right in front of the two young owls. "I saw you two here last time, trying to fake your way through the night, and now you're tryin' it again. Lazy, no-good haggards!" Soren and Gylfie, caught in the bright yellow glare of his eyes, began to tremble.<p>

"Avoidin' the moon, that's what I'd say," Jutt said as he walked up to them. "I had a hunch."

"Well, we have remedies for that," said Tarn.

_Oh, Glaux,_ Soren thought._ If I get plucked again! And Gylfie. She'll never survive it. _"March, you two, march to the moon blaze!"

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><p>"Don't say anything," Gylfie whispered. "We'ree together, that should count for something." <em>For what?<em> Soren wondered. _We'll get plucked together? We'll die together?_

The two young owls were marched into a stone chamber off to one side of the tunnel. The walls were made pure white stone and slanted outward at peculiar angles. Indeed, the moonlight seemed to pour into the white stone cell and blaze off the walls in a fierce brightness. "You shall remain here and be scalded by the moon's light until it fades. See how you like that!" Tarn blasted them with a screech to punchuate his remarks, which nearly toppled the little Elf Owl over.

"And no head ducking. We'll be watching." Soren looked up to see Nyra perched on a high ledge from where the moonlight entered the cell. The bright light reflected off her feathers in such a way that she seemed to glow. Tarn was soon to join her.

Gylfie managed to recover her balance and planted her tiny talons firmly on the stone. "Well," she said, "at least we're not plucked."

"Gylfie, are you yoicks?"

"In these situtions, Soren, you have to look in the bright side - no pun intended," Gylfie said as she looked around and saw moonlight bouncing off every surface.

"Gylfie, I don't there is a bright side to this, pun or not. Plucked or scalded? You consider that a choice?"

"We're not going to be either!" A new fierceness had crept into Gylfie's voice.

Soren paused for a moment, surprised by Gylfie's response. "H-how?"

"We need to think."

"but that is just what it's impossible to do when moonblinked, Gylfie. I think this is it for us." Soren looked down at Gylfie and, even as he said it, he felt a strange numbness stealing over him. And Gylfie's eyes began to blink in odd manner.

In the blaze of the moon's light, the two friends felt their essence departing. Soren's brain swan with confusion. His gizzard seemed to grow still. Even with this weird feeling coming on, he could feel the presence of both Nyra and Tarn above him.

He looked at the moon-blasted walls of the stone cell and they appeared slippery as ice, and this ice he felt his memories slipping away. He wanted to grab onto them, hold them, but he was simply too tired. He was about to fall asleep and when he awoke he knew he would be a changed owl. He would be unrecognizable to himself. He would truly have become 12-1 and Gylfie too, would be 25-2 - which rhymes with Ga'Hoole!

There was a click inside Soren's head. The moment he had thought of the word Ga'Hoole something seemed to clear his brain. His gizzard stirred. _Ga'Hoole_. The mere thought of the word crashed like thunder and seemed to wake Soren up.

"Gylfie! Gylfie!" He nudged the tiny owl with one of his talons. "Gyfie, have you ever the legends of Ga'Hoole?" Gylfie, whose movements were thick and slow, suddenly twitched. Soren could almost see a pulse course through the little bird, jerking her to alertness.

"Ga'Hoole - yes. My mother and father would often tell them to me, my brothers and sisters. Tales of Yore, we called them."

"We called them them legends - the Ga'Hoolian legends." With each mention of the word, the young owls seemed to grow slightly more alert, something within them quickening.

"I think," said Soren, "that we should tell those Tales of Yore until the moon goes down. Mabye they'll be our shield against the scalding."

Gylfie looked at Soren in wonder. _However does this Barn Owl come up with these ideas?_

And so Soren began...

"Once upon a time, before there were kingdoms of owls, in a time of ever-raging wars between creatures great and small, there was an owl born in the country of the Great North Waters by the name of Hoole. Some say there was an enchantment cast upon him as the time of his hatching, that he was given natural gifts of extraordinary power. But what was know of his power, was the way he inspired the animals around him to do great and noble deeds. Though he wore no crown of gold, the owls knew him as a king; for indeed, his good grace and conscience anointed him and his spirit was his crown. In a wood of straight tall trees he had hatched, in a glimmer between the last minute of the old year and the first of the new, and the forest on this night was sheathed in ice."

Soren's voice was hushed and lovely as the told the first tale of Ga'Hoole, the "Coming of Hoole". The two little owls' hearts and gizzards grew strong, their brains cleared, and their gizzards once again quickened.

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><p><strong>So what do you think of this? I plan to include at least another three chapters, one that will include Digger's backstory, and possibly mourning for Grimble. Anyway, stay tuned.<strong>


	10. The Eggorium

**Again, this is another chapter that I had previously not included. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>"I think it's working," Tarn said to Nyra as they stood atop stone perches high above the moon blaze chamber. They audience had now increased with the arrival of the Flying Fox's chieftain. They could not hear the hushed tale that Soren was repeating and the two young owls were careful to stand still. When the moon finally slipped down into the night sky, they alighted onto the floor of the moon blaze cell and peered into each of the owl's eyes.<p>

"Perfect!" the chieftain declared. His voice was a raspy hiss.

"Indeed," said Tarn.

"You know, these two were marked as haggards from the start," Nyra was saying, "or at least this Tyto was, and sometimes a haggard once scalded makes a better servant."

_Dream on._ The words roared in Soren's head.

"I am thinking of the little one for battle claw matinenance, and the Tyto for the eggorium. Or mabye even the hatchery for the little one."

_Hatchery! Eggorium! Battle claws!_ Soren and Gylfie were suddenly very alert. Yet they managed to walk in the dazed manner of the perfectly moonblinked.

"I think we need them together more often," Nyra said. "If they look into each other's eyes, it reincforces the the effects of the scalding."

_Ha!_ Gylfie nearly laughed out loud.

"And once that happens...," Tarn sneared, "there's no coming back."

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><p>So the two young owls returned to the moonblinking routine, and Jatt and Jutt were duly informed that they were to be together and periodically made to gaze into each other's eyes.<p>

"All right, you two!" barked Jutt. Face off!"

And neither Jatt nor Jutt could see the twinkle deep within each of the young owl's eyes, nor did they hear Soren say, as they turned their backs, "We did it, Gylfie. We did it."

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><p>The following day, Soren was back at his post in the pelletorium. He had been assigned as a second-degree picker and was now sifting through several pellets at a time. Gylfie, with her smaller size, was tasked with the rapid delivery of pellets to the pickers along with the basket carriers. When she came up to Soren with fresh pellets, he was more than ready to listen to her suggestions of a possible new worksite.<p>

"The eggorium. I think I found us an entry-level position. Egg sorting. A few owlets working their were removed due to a mite blight."

"So what does that mean?" Soren asked.

"I'm not sure. All I know is that they had to take owlets out of the eggorium and put them in the hatchery."

"I still don't really understand what they do in either one of those places. Not to mention, where are these flecks taken to after the bats handle them? I mean they can be devestating towards birds but I can't see how the Pure Ones could use them in a practical manner. It's like a puzzle that never seems to quite come together. It's as if we have all these pieces of things, but are we any closer to figuring out how to escape, or if we'll ever learn to fly.?" Soren was getting more and more agictated as he spoke.

"We know that the Pure Ones want to reclaim their power," said Gylfie. "Think about it, Soren; they have weapons, slaves, and these flecks. All they need to do is take the initiative. I don't how they plan to work that out, but try to keep calm. I just have a feeling that we're close to something."

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><p>Soren and Gylfie stood in a small antechamber. In front them was a large Snowy Owl, his feathers stained with the Pure Ones' colors.<p>

"Welcome to the eggorium!" the Snowy hooted deeply. It seemed that he had a similar personality to Grimble, or perhaps both Jatt and Jutt. "To work in the eggorium and the hatchery, is the highest of honors. Here, you shall help bring the gift of life, to those fortunate enough to be hatched into the glorious Tytonic Union of Pure Ones. And now into the eggorium, please follow me." The moonblinkled owlets did as they were told, flocking after the Snowy and his guards like tiny sheep.

Soren and Gylfie could not help but be stunned by the scene before them. Thousands upon thousands of eggs were being sorted, eggs of all sizes and all pure white, glistening now in the moonlight.

The instructions were simple. For this first phase, each of them was to look for an egg of their own species, as these would be the easiest for them to identify. Even a perfectly moonblinked owlet could figure the problem out. Thus Soren was given the "blessing" to sort all the Tyto eggs, and Gylfie would sort Elf Owl eggs. They were to roll the eggs into a designated area. From there, they would be transported by larger and more experienced owl to the hatchery.

Soren was simply aghast. This was worse than the owlet snatching that he, Kludd, and Gylfie had experienced. Egg-snatching; unspeakable. That was one of the words his father would use to describe the Pure Ones when he would read to him and Eglantine. He began to tremble. There was a sickening feeling in his gizzard, and it didn't feel like a pellet coming up.

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><p>As loathsome as the work was, it was pretty easy. However, Soren could not help but wonder with each Tyto egg he found where it had come from. Did his parents know the parent of this egg? Luckily, both his and gylfie's stations were not that far apart. So as Soren and Gylfie arrived at their respective stations, rolling their eggs, they would exchange a word or two. "I haven't seen Hort...12-8, since we first got here," he said.<p>

"She's not here. She's in the hatchery. That's where the broodies are - they sit on the eggs. We've got to get in there."

"How do you plan to do that?" Soren asked.

"I don't know. I'll think of Something," Gylfie said.

* * *

><p>Just before their shifts ended, Gylfie though of something.<p>

"You!"

"Me what?" Soren asked.

"You're a perfect broody."

"What? Me a broody? Have you gone yoicks? I'm a male owl. Males don't sit on nests."

"They occasionally do - in cold climates that is."

"Well this isn't an especially cold climate. Why not you?"

"They don't need smaller owl like me, but you're large enough to cover several eggs at a time. I heard them talking and, by the way, they have plenty of male owls up there sitting on nests."

"What do you mean by 'up there'? Up where?"

"Up there, Soren. I think it's pretty close to the sky. I think..." Gylfie paused for dramatic effect. "We could fly from up there."

Soren's gizzard gave a lurch. "I'll go!"

"Good fella!" Gylfie gave Soren a friendly cuff, altough the was so short she could hardly reach his wing. But it seemed like really a male owl thing to do and she wanted to assure Soren that, altough he was going to be a broody, he was still a male through and through. "And I'll see what I can do to get a job as a moss tender."

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><p><strong>Please review.<strong>


	11. The Hatchery

**Hello again. The ideas have just flowing lately. For those who have been wondering, yes i have been copying a few texts from the books, but only in the pursuit of writing an awesome fanfic. And p.s., i still have yet to decide whether or not include Pellimore. Sorry Phooka.**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. They belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner Bros._

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><p>It was Soren's second night on the job. He actually worked a shift with three other moonblinked owlets, one of whom was male. It wasn't quite as humiliating as he had thought. There certainly was a constant stream of food. Sitters were well tended. The eating was definatley good in the hatchery. And the best part was, he could not be bothered by Jatt, Jutt, or the bats. Gylfie did manage to get herself in as a moss tender. And if their shifts coincided, there was plenty of time to talk, as Gylfie made extra trips to tuck moss and bits of fluff into Soren's. Then again, what did he know? Just as he was beginning to think this, the second night, that it wasn't so bad, the young Barred Owl on the nest next to him spoke in that empty moon-blinked voice, "Crack alert! Crack alert! Egg tooth visible!"<p>

Two guards came hustling over, this time without battle claws. Soren felt his gizzard twinge with excitement. He leaned out of his nest to take a peek, still feigning his moonblinked state. The egg was giving those familiar shudders - just like the time he had watched Eglantine's hatching, which now seemed so long ago. But no one seemed at all excited. No one was gasping with joy, saying, "It's coming! It's coming!"

The egg was rocking now. Soren could see the little hole and the egg tooth, pale and glistening, poking out.

"All right," the first Pure One, a Grass Owl said in a cool, but gruff and intimidating voice. "Time to welcome this Tyto to the world." And with that, the owl gave a solid thwack with his talons. The egg split. Then the second guard, a Masked Owl hooked the slimy white blob with his talon and firmly pulled it out while the Grass Owl turned up the shell. "Bottoms up!" the owl said crisply and he dumped out the hatchling.

Soren was so shocked he could barley breath. No one exclaimed "It's a girl!" No one said "adorable" or "enchanting". No one said anything except "A Sooty. Take her to Her Pureness to be named."

The Grass Owl nodded in response, and flew off with the newborn chick. Soren felt a rage. This was the most horrid, despicable thing he had ever witnessed. A coldness that began in his gizzard seemed to creep through Soren from his tail feathers up to his wing tips and down to his talons. He realized that he would rather see that little owlet dead thatn alive in St. Aggie, being raised under the Pure Ones. They had to get out. He, Gylfie, and Kludd had to get out. they must learn to fly. Where was Gylfie? She was on this shift. He wished she could come by and see this. He craned his head about but there was no sign of the little Elf Owl.

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><p>"Remember now, think on your talons," said Stryker, as he slashed at Kludd with his battle claws. Stryker was the commander of the Pure One's army, under Nyra that is. Her Pureness had invited him, along with Wortmore, her top lieutenant, along with several Flying Foxes to train the young recruits in combat. Nyra had ordered Stryker to personally attend to Kludd, while Wortmore and the bats took care of the others.<p>

Kludd parried Stryker's attack mid-flight, then counter-attacked with his own set of heavy battle claws. The larger owl easily dodged the feeble swipe and rushed in with a head butt. Even without a helmet, the blow of his head was enough to send Kludd off balance, and he started to fall. Landing on the hard stone floor, he looked up to see Stryker hovering overhead, his lethal weaponry ready to strike.

"When your enemy is above you, you're as good as dead," Stryker lectured once more. He then dived down feet first, claws extended. Kludd flapped uwards as hard as he could, just missing what could have ended with a missing leg or two. But just as he was back in the air, Styker was on him again once more. They both began dodging and spinning around each other, their connecting battle claws creating sparks and their down feathers flying.

Kludd kept swiping and blocking, but soon he felt overwhelmed. He ducked under his opponent and flew for about twenty feet to recollect himself. "A Pure One never cowers!" Stryker spat. "And stop performing basic attacks; use the unorthadox." The Pure One flew to his trainee with the speed worthy of a falcon. Kludd took a deep breath and flew stright for the other owl. At the last moment, he reached out and grabbed Striker by his talons, taking him by surprise. Stryker, perplexed by this new move of Kludds' found himself unable to react. Kludd spun him around and with an unforseen strength, flung the older owl out of the air and onto the floor. Kludd tossed the stunned bat aside and pinned Stryker to the ground. He panted heavily over him, his eyes burning with pent up adrenaline.

The young owl's few thoughts were interrupted by the low clicking noise. He turned to see Nyra walking over to him, snapping her beak with a smile. This was the closest thing owls could do to clap in applause. "Well done, soldier; very well done."

At this Kludd beamed. He stood up tall as he was shown how to do and puffed out his breast. Nyra leaned over him with almost motherly eyes, those beautiful black river stones brighteneing his soul. "Here I though you were soft in heart and gizzard, but now I watch as my top subordinate lays subdued beneath you. It seems you have even greater potential than I had hoped."

"Thank you, your Ablah," Kludd bowed his head. He was starting to like this new life of his more and more with each passing night. Now that he was an accomplished flyer and fighter, he was finding himself on Nyra's good side. Beautiful Nyra, whose graceful form and wonderous charm never ceased to amaze him. _This is getting better and better._

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><p>It was the stillest time of the moonless night, and on break Gylfie had stepped into a large crack in the rock, perfect for hiding an Elf Owl. She was watching Hortense. Hortense had proven herself to be such an exceptional sitter that she had been given a big nest on a large outcropping away from the others, where there was more room. She had become very adept at spreading herself over several eggs at a time. It was a change in shift for moss tenders in Gylfie's area so it would be a while before any came by.<p>

And now the Spotted Owl, who was indeed large for an owl her age, was doing something rather odd. She had actually stepped off her nest, and it appeared to Gylfie as if she were trying to dislodge an egg from the nest. Gylfie blinked and blinked again. She nearly gasped out loud when she saw 12-8 gently roll the egg to the edge of the stone outcropping. Then, out of the blackness of this moonless night, there appeared a spot of dazzling white - just a spot like a tiny moon floating in the darkness, a tiny feathered moon! Gylfie's eyes widened. It was the head of a Bald Eagle. She had seen them in the desert from time to time. This one was huge and had a wingspan that was immense. It alighted on the ledge and silently picked up the egg in its talons. Not a word was exchanged as the eagle turned around and flew off into the night. Indeed, the only thing that Gylfie heard was a soft sigh in the night as 12-8 climbed back into her nest.

Gylfie and Soren finally met up at dawn when they were both due to go off their shifts. They each were so eager to talk about their experiences that they began to argue as to who would go first. Finally, Gylfie hissed her news. "12-8! She's an infiltrator!"

"What?" Soren was stunned. His beak dropped open. The story of the horrible hatching like nothing compared to this.

"A spy," Gylfie said in a throaty voice.

"Wait. Are we talking about the same owl? Hortense? Number 12-8?"

"She's no more 12-8 than I'm 25-2 or you're 12-1."

"Hush, here she comes."

Hortense walked by and stopped. "12-8, I hear, you good sitter. Each egg I make hatch me feel humble."

"Thank you, 12-8," Soren replied numbly. Then the Spotted Owl turned to Gylfie "And you good moss tender. You too be sitter, one day.

Gylfie nodded mutely.

_What an actress!_

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><p>For the next two nights, Soren and Gylfie argued about how they would confront Hortense.<p>

"I think we should go up to her when she's alone," Gylfie said. "And we say, 'Hortense, it has come to our attention..."

"What do you mean 'come to our attention'? You spied on her Gylfie. That could make her nervous, 'the come to our attention' bit. She might think a lot of owls have seen her."

"You're right."

'Why do we have to confront her at all?"

"Why? Well, what if she's part of something here? What if there are twenty Hortenses in St. Aggie's? What if there is some hidden network of...of disgruntled un-moonblinked owlets? Mabye they're planning a revolution."

"You have a point," said Soren.

"Look," Gylfie said, "We have to make firends, real friends, like Hortense. Her nest is in the highest place in the hatchery. That's where we're going to leave from." Gylfie paused and walked right under Soren's beak. "Look down at me, Soren."

"What?"

"Soren, we've got to learn how to fly. Now!"

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><p><strong>As you can see, I've made some noticeable changes to this chapter. I sure hope you enjoyed this one a second time, unless you are a first time reader. See ya later.<strong>


	12. Hortense's Story

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. They belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner Bros._

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><p>But first, they had to talk to Hortense. It was not, of course, just a question of picking the right moment, but the right words. The moment was easy enough. The following evening, Soren and Gylfie managed to syncroniaze their schedules so that Soren had a break from his sitter chores while Gylfie was still on moss-tending duty. Soren requested permission to help his friend deliver moss, which was granted, as there were still shortages in both the hatchery and eggorium. Together, the two owls made their way up to the distant outcropping where Hortense sat this evening on a large nest with at least eight eggs in it.<p>

"Phew!" Soren sighed. "Some hike up here."

"Nothing to it." Gylfie hopped along. "You get used to it. all right, now, you know the drill. You begin."

It was Soren who had thought of the opening words - or word. The opening owrd was a name: "Hortense." And the speech was simple. They were now approaching the top of the outcrop. The wind was strong. Indeed, it was the first time that Soren had felt the wind since he had arrived at St. Aggies's. Smoke clouds from a nearby forest fire raced across the sky. This was where owls belonged - up high with the wind and the sky and the stars that swirled in the night. He felt invigorated and confiedent.

"Welcome, 25-2, and 12-1," Hortense continued her numb routine.

Soren dropped the moss from his beak onto the nest, and Hortense began tucking it into the niches and gaps.

"Hoetense!"

Hortense looked up and blinked at him. Her once deep brown eyes thickened with the misty moonblink gaze.

"Hortense, this is where owls belong - high, near the wind, near the sky, close to the hearbeat of the night." _Amazing_, Gylfie thought. "Hortense, you are an owl, a Spotted Owl."

"My name, 12-8."

"No it isn't, Hortense," Soren said, and this was Gylfie's cue.

"All right, cut the pellets. You are Hortense and I saw you acting not as 12-8 but as Hortense, the brave, imaginative Spotted Owl. I saw you deliver an egg from this nest to an eagle."

At that moment, Hortense blinked again and the daze lifted from her eyes, simply evaporated like fog on a sunny day. "You saw?"

"I saw, Hortense," Gylfie said gently. "You are no more moonblinked than we are."

"I had my suspicions about you too," Hortense said softly. Her eyes seemed to lose their brittle stare. Indeed, Soren thought they were the loveliest owl eyes he had ever seen. Deep brown like the still pool in the forest that he had seen from his family's nest in the fir tree. But there was also a kind of flickering light in them. Speckles of white dotted the crown of her head and her entire body seemed dappled in shades of amber and brown, shot through with spots of white and blurry stars.

"We never suspected you," Soren said quickly. "That is, until Gylfie saw you that night."

"Are there any other owlets here that are un-moonblinked?" Gylfie asked.

"We're the only three, I think."

"How did you get here? How did you resist moonblinking?"

"It's a long story how I got here. And how I resisted moonblinking, well, I'm not sure. You see, where I come from there is a stream, and the flecks that they pick from the pellets run heavily in that stream."

"What are these flecks, exactly?"

"I'm not sure of that either. They can be found in rocks and soil and water, and as you already know, lot of animals end up eating them. They seem to occur everywhere, but in our part of the Kingdom of Ambala, there is a large deposit that runs through the creeks and river. Luckily their weakening affects of birds are rendered useless by the water, but they are still considered both a blessing and a curse. Some of us have unusual powers because of the flecks, we think, but for others it disrupts the concious in their gizzards. I had a grandmother who lost her wits entirely, but before she hatched my father, who could see through rock."

"What? Impossible!"

"No, it's true, yet my brother went blind at an early age. So one never knows how it might affect them. I think in my case it perhaps made me resistant to moonblinking. But that doesn't explain how I got here. It was no accident. I chose to come."

"You chose to come?" Gylfie and soren both gasped.

"I told you it was a long story."

"I'm on break." Soren said.

"And they're short on guards. I won't be missed," Gylfie added.

"Well, first of all, I am much older than I appear. I am in fact, a fully mature owl."

"What?" Soren and Gylfie both said with complete disbelief.

"Yes, it's true. I hatched almost four years ago."

"Four years ago!" Soren said.

"Yes, indeed, but perhaps one of the effects of the flecks on me was that I was always small, small as an owlet, and never really grew much bigger. My feathers were delayed coming in, and of coarse, I have further delayed them." At this point, Hortense stuck her beak into the nest and pulled out a lovely brown-and-white Spotted Owl feather.

"Is that from a molt?" Soren asked. He had molted when he had shed his first down. There had been a First Molting ceremony, and his mother had saved those down feathers in a special place.

"No, it's not a molt. I pull them out myself."

"You pluck yourself?" Soren and Gylfie gasped in horror.

"Well," she churred. "It was for my top secret work, but also because of my delayed feather development. So I was a natural."

"A natural for what?" Gylfie asked.

"To come here. To find out what was going on. You see, in the Forest of Ambala, our losses due to the Pure One patrols had become increasingly heavy. We had been losing owlets at an astonishing rate. Something had to be done. And this, or coarse, was risky. One of our bravest owls, named Cedric, had followed a Pure One owlet patrol and discovered this maze of stone canyons in which they lived. Sadly, on his second attempt to explore more of what was happening, he never returned. We feared he was killed. I volunteered for service as well. I figured that I probably wouldn't have much of a normal life, what with my delayed feather development, and then when my feathers finally did come in, the just didn't seem to work that well. No power, no lift, shaky drag capabilities. I could hardly manage anything but the shortest of flights. Who would have me as a mate? What kind of mother would I make, not being able to hunt or teach my chicks how to fly? How should I put it? I was bound to be one of those odd single owls, always dependent on relatives' charity, given the wormy, maggoty, down-the-trunk hollow. I hated the idea of being the pathetic dependent owl, the one the owlets were forced to visit. I decided that it was contrary to my nature to lead such a life and that if I could not live like a normal owl, I would, in fact, use my disability for some noble purpose. Thus, I chose to go to St. Aggie's and do whatever I could to stop the Pure Ones in their horrible quest to rule the owl kingdoms and enslave all non-Tyto owls. For that is what they want to do. You realize this, don't you?"

Soren and Gylfie nodded numbly.

"The eggs are part of it. The Pure Ones capture more Tyto eggs than owlets, so I do what I can here. Since my arrival I have saved more than twenty eggs, and ten owlets. The owls of Ambala and Tyto work with the Bald Eagles. It's safest that way. Eagles can get closest to this place most freely. Rock crevices are the natural nesting places for many eagles. So they know the territory. The eagle is the one bird that really strikes fear into the gizzards of these owls. In fact, Metabeak's dead eye - the talon work of an eagle."

"But Hortense," Gylfie cut in, wanting to get back on track with the situation. "There must be more to your life than this. You can't remain here forever."

"The eagles promised to come and get me. But I always say "oh, just another dozen or so". I have become rather addicted to what I am doing."

"We want to get out of here. Won't you come with us?" Soren asked.

"How can I? I can't fly. Nor can you for that matter."

"But we're going to learn," Soren said fiercly.

"Good," Hortense replied softly, and there was a quiver in her voice that gave both Soren and Gylfie a very creepy feeling. Then, realizing that perhaps she had frightened them, Hortense spoke cheerfully. "Oh, don't worry. I am sure you shall. Where there's a wing there's a way! Now let me see those wings of yours."

Gylfie and Soren both spread their wings for Hortense to examine. "Lovely, lovely," she said softly. "Coverts coming in nicely, Soren. Very nice tip slots developing between the primaries. Essential for drag control, especially during turbulent conditions. Your barbs, both of you, are still soft but they'll stiffen up. And I am sure you will both make splendid fliers."

"Any chance we could see the eagles when they come in?" Soren asked.

"Well...they fly in just before first light."

"I'll work a double shift so i can come up here," Gylfie said quickly. "And Soren, try to arrange for a break for yourself."


	13. Save the Egg!

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. They belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner bros._

* * *

><p>"Number 32-9 reporting." A young Snowy Owl said in his depressingly numb, moonblinked voice. Soren scrambled off his nest and set off to find Gylfie. He met her on the rubbly path leading up to the outcropping where Hortense was.<p>

"You realize, of course," Soren was saying as the winds began to buffet them on their ascent, "that when we learn to fly, the outcropping will make the ideal takeoff spot. Always a breese to bounce you up. Perfect."

* * *

><p>By the time they arrived, Hortense already had the egg out of the nest and was pushing it toward the edge of the rock.<p>

"Can we help in any way?" Soren asked.

"Thank you both, but it's really better if I do it myself. The fewer birds touch this egg, the better." The Spotted Owl paused for a moment, looking off into the distance. "Ah, here she comes. No mate with her tonight again. Must be busy elsewhere. Gives me such a thrill every time I spot those wings. Magnificent, aren't they?"

Soren saw the white head, brighter than any star, melt from the dim pearly gray of the dawn. The immensity of the eagle's wing was incredible. Soren was enraptured. So enraptured that he didn't hear Gylfie desperate hiss. Finally, a sharp beak poked him in the knee.

"Soren, quick! I hear someone coming up the path!" Then Soren heard it, too. Gylfie dived into a narrow slot, one that could not fit a large owl like himself.

"Come in. Come in. We'll squeeze up. It's wider inside." Gylfie was desperate and Soren was nearly frozen with fear to the rock beneath his talons. When birds, and owls in particular are frightened, their feathers lie flat and they do become slimmer. So, with fear pumping through him, Soren indeed seemed to shrink.

"Go. Hide," Hortense ordered with a stern tone that reminded Soren of his mother whenever she was upset. He pressed himself into the crack that, in fact, did widen as it deepened. He hoped he was not crushing Gylfie. They both were barely breathing as the horrifying scene began to unfold on the outcropping.

"12-8!" The screech seemed to crack the sky. G_ood Glaux, it was Nyra and Tarn and Jatt and Jutt!_ Nyra was puffed and angry, her black eyes having the slightest tinge of red.

"I suspected you for some time!" Nyra squawked, and dragged Hortense off the nest that she had just moments before returned to.

The egg, limned by the rising sun, stood fragile and quivering at the edge of the rock. Soren's eyes were riveted on the egg. The egg loomed so large, so fragile against the dawn sky. _I could have been Eglantine. It could have been Eglantine._ The thought began to swell in Soren's brain and fill him with a profound terror. This was the future they were fighting for. This was the evilness of the Pure Ones. The egg teetered on the brink as did the entire world of owls. The eagle hovered above, waiting to take it.

Suddenly, there was a deep mournful howl. "Go for the egg! Don't worry about me! Save the egg...save the egg! Hortense shrieked as Nyra clenched her by an underdeveloped wing. Then a huge shadow slid across the outcropping and next there was an explosion of feathers. It seemed to Soren like there was nothing but feathers. Feathers and down everywhere swriling in the glimmering rosey light of the new day. The eagle was everywhere at once, and Hortense kept crying, "Save the egg! Save the egg!" Nyra was the fiercest fighteer of them all. Her beak open and ready to tear, her eyes hard as stone. Her talons were extended and trying to rip at the eagle's eyes; she was a white squall of fury. "Kill her! Kill her you fools!" she screamed in a high-pitched shree that only Tytos could make. Her moon-like face was hardened until it seemed like stone.

Then Gylfie and Soren saw the eagle take a mighty swipe with her wing and send Nyra tumbling flat on her back. In that moment, the eagle reached the egg and flew off with it clutched in her talons.

Yet the voice of Hortense seemed to grow dimmer, as iff it were fading away, dwindeling as if...as if...Soren and Gylfie looked at each big tears leaked from Soren's dark eyes. "She's falling, isn't she, Gylfie?"

"They pushed her." And there was Nyra, standing at the edge of the cliff with Tarn and another Barn Owl, looking down into the thousand-foot-deep abyss. "Well then," she cooed. "we'll never see that little fool ever again." Her voice curled into the ugliest snarl Soren could ever imagine.

"But the eagle got the egg," Gylfie said weakly.

"Yes, I suppose she did," Soren replied.

And now there would be more stories, indeed, legends to tell in Ambala of the brave Hortense.

* * *

><p>The young soldiers-to-be were roused from their sleep by Wortmore's surprised gasp. Kludd was shocked to see Nyra and Styker with their feathers ravaged and their long legs marked with scratches. The commander had a deep nick in his beak, and Nyra looked as though she may collapse.<p>

The young Barn Owl tried to listen to what Nyra was saying as she spoke privately with Stryker and Wortmore. They were able to keep their voices extremely low; low enough to keep even a mouse from hearing. All he could make out were things like "eagle", or "egg". Something serious had just happened, that much Kludd could tell. And what was worst, Nyra had been hurt. What sort of brute would be so rutheless as to harm such a fair owl like her?

Kludd went over to Nyra as she walked/limped by with her subordinates. "What happened?"

"It's nothing you need to be concerned about, soldier. Now go back to sleep."

"But you're hurt."

"While I appreciate your concern, I have no need for it. Now away with you," Nyra said sternly, and Kludd backed off. As they three Pure Ones continued on, she said, "That boy is completely obsessed with me."

"Should we be concerned?" Wortmore asked in his gravely voice.

"No...," Nyra paused. "It's just what we need."

* * *

><p>The eggorium was briefly shut down. All temporary eggorium and hatchery owlets were to be moonblinked once again, as indeed there was another full shine out the following evening. Once again, Gylfie and Soren survived the moon scalding. They told the Tales of Yore, as Gylfie called the Ga'Hoolian Legends. And Soren, who had a remarkable gift for storytelling, began to compose a new one that night which he told in bits through the glare of the moon's cool light.<p>

"She was an owl like none other..." Soren began. "Her face both beautiful and kindly, her deep brown eyes warm with a glimmer like tiny suns. Her wings, however, for one reason or another were crippled, and it was from this weakness, that she drew her great strength. For this was an owl who wanted only to do good, who clung to dreams of freedom while giving up her own and, from a stony perch high in a lawless place, did she find a way to wage her own war."

Soren finished the legend as the scalding moon began to slip down in the sky.

**As you can, I've revised this chapter a bit. I hope you liked the improvements that I've made.**


	14. One Bloody Night

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

* * *

><p>The following day, Soren and Gylfie had returned to work in the pelletorium. The last time that the Pure ones had attempted to moonblink them seemed so long ago. But they had survived. Soren poked his beak into the feathers, the very feathers that Hortrnse had said were coming along so nicely. They seemed even thicker now; he was finally fully fledged.<p>

"Look at those primaries, Soren, and your plummels! I really envy them," Gylfie said.

Soren ran his beak lightly through the plummels that hovered like a fine mist over his flight feathers. He remembered his mother saying how one must preen their plummels every day, for, indeed, plummels were unique to owls. Of all birds, owls, and only certain owls at that, had plummels. Elf Owls did not have these fine, soft feathers that fringed the leading edges of wings. It was these feathers that allowed larger owls to fly in almost complete silence.

"So Gylfie, you think we'll be able to get out of here soon?"

"Yes."

Soren looked at this little owl who had become his friend and felt a twinge. While thay had mostly talked about learning to fly, they had yet to figure out just _how_ they were going to escape.

* * *

><p>Later on, as the night had begun, Soren and Gylfie's shifts had become unusually long. And as they munched on their evening crickets, Soren spread his wings and fluffed them up and, altough not hopping, Soren had certainly assumed what was known as a flight-prime position. He turned to a young Western Screech Owl, who, in Gylfie's mind, was the most perfectly moonblinked owl in St. Aggie's.<p>

"Getting feel of it." Soren said. Naturally, Soren did not wait for an answer. "Feel of what?" He merely went ahead and answered his own question in hopes of provoking the owlet into offering more information. "Must feel good to fly." He raised his wings slightly as he spoke.

"Oh, yes." the owlet blinked. "Feeling will pass." his wings hung limply at his sides. "I rembemer when I have it. You not be bothered, much longer." he stared straight ahead, his eyes vacant.

_Bothered? Why would such feelings ever be a bother?_ Soren dared not ask. He could see that Gylfie had heard this as well and was equally disturbed. A dread began to creep up from their gizzards and seep into their hollow bones. They had thought that moonblinked owls were nearly mindless, but somehow they still retained their urges to fly. And what did the Pure Ones have in mind to quell these urges?

Just at that moment, Jatt and Jutt screeched a call for attention. "All 40's through 48's shall port on the third sleep march to area three!" they spoke in unison.

* * *

><p>Two marches had gone by. The moon was drawn down to the edge where the sky met the earth. A third sleep march would seem meaningless, as moonblinking could no be done without a full moon. Soren and Gylfie, being in the 12's and 25's category, were safe from whatever was to come, yet they were taken with the others nevertheless. They walked out to the glaucidium and stopped at the edge of area three.<p>

"Look!" Gylfie said. "Look at what they're doing." Soren and Gylfie both stared in disbelief as hundreds of owls flung themselves flat on their backs with their breasts exposed to the sky and their wings spread out.

"Never," Sorend said, "have I seen an owl perch that way. It looks like it might hurt."

"I don't think it's called perching," Gylfie said. "I think it's called lying down."

"Lying down? Mammals and reptiles do that, not bird, and never owls." Soren hesitated. "Not unless they're dead."

But these owls were not dead.

"Listen!" Soren said.

The sky high above the glaucidium seemed to suddenly pulse with a throbbing sound. It was the sound of wing beats but not soft, almost silent, wing beatsof owls. Instead, there was a tough leathery _snap_. Then, blacker than the blackest night, printed against the sky, a thousand bats flew overhead and decended upon the owlets.

_Good Glaux_. Soren thought, who hadn't felt true terror at St. Aggie's until now. The memory of the bat's vulgar treatment towards him when he had asked a question was still fresh in his mind. Of all his captors at St. Aggie's, the bats were the cruelist. In fact they were even more brutal towards the moonblinked owlets that the Pure Ones themselves. He had seen how they would hiss and even nip at the owlets, snickering as they did so. Even when he was soiled upon by the nasty little beasts, he could clearly remember that _they_ had laughed the hardest at his misfortune. Bats often found themselves caught and eaten by owls, and hated them for it. I only made sense that the Pure Ones were giving these bats some self-satisfaction, of doing with these owlets as they pleased.

Soren and Gylfie watched in unblinking fear as the bats landed. Most of them were Vampire Bats, while the large Flying Foxes flanked them as they alighted. On the larger bat's wings, thin blades of steel glistened in the moonlight; certainly a match for any battle claws. Upon looking closley, Soren could see that all the bats had dark red markings on their backs and undersides, the trademark of the Pure Ones. The Vampire bats, using their thumb claws and legs, crawled up onto the owl's breasts. They seemed to forage for a few seconds, snipping away at the feathers with their incisors. Then with gleaming sharp canines, they made a quick tiny cut. The bat's tongues, narrow and grooved, slipped into the nicks. The owls did not even flinch but seemed merely to sigh into the night. Soren and Gylfie were horrified and could not move. A young female Great Horned Owl turned her head toward them, her eyes half shut, a mild, contented expression on her face.

"That must hurt terribly," Soren spoke softly.

"No, good. Soothing."

Soren and Gylfie were not sure how long the bats were there, but, indeed, they seemed to swell before their eyes. And then they appeared so gorged, it was as if they staggered rather than lift off into flight. The grayness of a new dawn began to filter through the black and, in drunken spirals, the bats wheeled through the remenants of the night, the only evidence of their presence being cuts on all the owlets breasts, and small puddles of urine.


	15. To Believe

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

* * *

><p>Ever since that bloody night, Soren and Gylfie had thought of nothing but flying. It had become abundantly clear to them why none of the owlets of St. Aggies had grown their plumages in. Growing feathers for adulthood was normally not a complicated business, but deprived of a blood supply, these feathers would wither and die. With that, stirring, dreams of flight, notions of skillful joy and freedom shriveled and died as well.<p>

Soren and Gylfie's mission was unmistakable: They must learn how to fly despite lacking any opportunity to ever branch, or hop, or practice for flight in any way. They must keep the dream of flight alive in their minds. They must feel it in their gizzards and in that way they would learn to fly. Gylfie repeated the words of her father to Soren: "He said, Soren, that you can practice forever still never fly if you don't believe. So it's not just practice, Soren. We must believe, and we can because we are not moonblinked."

"But moonblinked or not, we have to get out of here before the Vampire Bats bleed _us_ dry!" he said with urgency.

Gylfie looked at Soren gravely. "That's why we must learn how to fly before the next moon cycle."

"But I don't have enough experience," Soren said.

"Almost, though."

"Almost? There's a difference, Gylfie, between almost and enough."

"Yes. The difference is belief, Soren. Belief." The little Elf Owl said the last word so fiercly that Soren took a step back. "You have a large and generous gizzard, Soren. You feel. I know this. You feel strongly. If any owl can do this, you can."

Soren blinked in dismay. How could he not believe it if this owl, who weighed no more than a wad of leaves, believed so much. It was Gylfie who had the enormous gizzard, not himself.

* * *

><p>So the little owls began to think constantly about flying. They discussed it whenever they could. They shared memories of their parents lifting out of their nests into the sky. They argued about wing angles and drift and updrafts and a dozen other things they had seen and slmost felt as they had watched other owls. They pondered endlessly the stony maze of canyons and ravines that made up St. Aggie's. They knew that the only way out was straight up, requiring the most difficult of flight maneuvers, especially now that they had no access to Hortense's stone outcropping high in the hatchery. There could be no gradual glide for a takeoff. Still, they knew that when they escaped, it was essential to find the highest point possible, the point closest to the sky. And Gylfie continued to feel deep in her gizzard that they would find it.<p>

One unseasonably warm day, Gylfie had returned to their station in the pelletorium from a run for new pellets. She was barely able to conceal her excitement. "He's back," she whispired to Soren. "Grimble's back!"

"Why would you be excited to see Grimble? He snatched you from your home in Kuneer."

"I know," she replied, "But there's been something strange about him ever since we encountered him. Remember when he seemed insincere with his introduction to St. Aggie's? He sounded bored, and even spat the words "Pure Ones". He wasn't even fighting too hard against the eagle."

"Yeah, so?" Soren asked, having no idea where this conversation was going.

"Well, after that, he seemed almost depressed when he gave us our number designations. Not to mention, he hardly laid a talon on Hortense's eagle. It's like he was holding back."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I think Grimble might not be a true Pure One!"

* * *

><p>High up above, the final training for Kludd and his fellow recruits had begun. As Nyra stood across from the young Tyto's, a small wooden cage had been placed beside her. Inside, a tiny songbird chattered wildly, desperate to escape.<p>

Kludd was now excited. He had spent several weeks training under Nyra's guidance. He had already mastered flight, and learned the proper middair fighting styles. He had never expected to have come so far. And Nyra, he just couldn't stop taking orders from her. Her beauty just pulled him in every time she spoke. And right now, he and his fellow soldiers-to-be, were listening intently to the Ablah General, as she began the final initiation test in becoming a Pure One.

"Now," Nyra began, "the best of you; the fittest and most brilliant; I will present to the Lord High Tyto." As she spoke, she opened a latch in the cage and snatched the little bird out in her talons. "Now let's see how you've all improved: As fliers: As fighters!" With that, she released the bird, and it zipped past the young owls and down the long cavern, heading straight for the opening that led to the outside world.

"Well?"

Without further hesitation, the young Pure Ones-in-training had turned around and took off after their intended target. Kludd was the first to be airborne, already gaining on his hapless quarry. As he reached for it, he was suddenly yanked back by his tail feathers, and found himself in the wake of the Grass Owl recruit. As the bird climbed higher in flight, it flew close to the edge of the cavern wall. Taking the opportunity for sabotage, the Grass Owl claswed at the stone, dislodging a stray rock, which was now headed straight for Kludd's head. Instinctively, he flinched in midflight, effectively avoiding the would-be collision. If he had looked back, Kludd would have seen the incoming rock hit the competeing Sooty Owl in the face, rendering him dazed, and he tumbled in flight, landing hard on the floor.

As the Grass Owl ahead of him flew by an overhanging Pure One banner, Kludd went directly over it, inadvertantly catching it with his talons. His whole body jerked as it kept moving. In response, he defiently ripped it out of the rock wall, pole and all, and tossed it aside. The banner fell to Earth and caught the young Masked Owl's following Kludd, elimenating them from the chase. Grinning with accomplishment, Kludd now flew straight for his last remaining competator and the songbird. As the chase came to it's final stretch, they were nearing a sliver of light at a seemingly dead end. Kludd knew it was now or never. If he lost this, he would once again look weak and never be able to prove himself to Nyra. With a burst of fury, he seemed to zoom through the air to his aquired target. As the Grass Owl reached for the little bird, Kludd used his velocity to shove the other owl out of the way, and as the inertia carried him along, he put his lower body forward and thrust his left talon out with all his might. Each digit wrapped tightly around the songbird's body, denying it its freedom.

Exhausted from his exertion, Kludd landed on the ground, panting heavily. _Beat that Soren!_ he screamed in his head. As his gizzard swelled at the thought of outdoing his brother, he heard another someone land behind him. He didn't look back.

"Well done," Nyra said as she walked over to face Kludd. "You've shown exceptional obedience and disipline. My husband will be very pleased with your progress." As she said this to Kludd, the young Barn Owl beamed. He was so happy that he had forgotteng about the bird he held in his talons entirely. It managed to wiggle out of his grip and flew off into the sky, cursing his existence. "Tell me; does your brother have similar potential as a flier?"

As this Kludd nearly choked. He had already gotten this far. He could't let his little brother upstage him again. So he said, "Soren? No, he fell out of the nest when he was still a hatchling. He's lame."

Nyra churred, amused. "Oh, soldier. You mustn't confuse praize for license. Never _lie_ to me." At this point Nyra had walked up behind Kludd, coiling around him like a snake as she spoke. "For the Lord High Tyto, we need as many strong fliers as we can find." she began walking down the cavern, motioning for Kludd to follow. "Come, let us show your brother, what rewards there are for those who recognize their _true_ family."

* * *

><p>As the day faded into the afternoon, Soren and Gylfie managed to sneak away from their stations and towards where they could find Grimble. They still walked in the same manner as any other moonblinked owl, but only when they weren't behind cover. From where Grimble was perched, they would be able to interrogate him without being spotted by prying eyes. Gylfie gave the signal, and they slipped between the rocks, unseen, unheard.<p>

Gylfie walked ahead with determination. Soren was trembling with fear. What if Gylfie's suspicions about Grimble being a turnfeather were wrong? What if he sounded an alarm? What if they were both seized for the next laughter therapy session? Soren winced and felt a twinge flicker from his down fluff to his primaries.

Grimble stood at the pelletorium's entrance. As the two young owls approached him, he turned his head and blinked at them. then commenced one of the strangest conversations Soren had ever heard.

"And exactly what do you two think you're doin'...eh?" He immediatley said, leaning forward.

"Looking for you." Gylfie answered.

"You're puttin' your lives on the line for this. You know that, right?"

"Our lives aren't worth two pellets here. We have nothing two lose," Gylfie replied.

Grimble raised his eyebrow. "I'm guessin' you're not moonblinked then? You're pretty brave."

"Not so brave. Wait until you hear my questions. Then you'll know I'm brave."

Soren nearly fainted. How could Gylfie even say the word!

Grimble began to wilt. "You dare say the Q-word."

"Yes, and I am going to say the _what_, the _when_, and the _why, _and every other word a free, un-moonblinked owl. Because we're a lot like you, Grimble.

Grimble began to gag. "Whhh-what?"

"What am I talking about? Is that what you wanted to ask? Say it, Grimble. ask how I know this. Ask aanything you want and I'll tell you with one answer. I feel it in my gizzard, that you are just as miserable here as we are!"

Thin transparent eyelids swept over Grimble's eyes. Soren knew about these winking eyelids; nictitating membranes. His parents had told him that when he began to fly, he would find them useful, for they would keep his eyes clear in flight and protect them from any airborne bits of debris. But grimble was not in flight. No, Grimble was hardly moving. So why was he flicking them so much? Then Soren noticed huge tears gathering at the far corners of his large yellow eyes. "Oh, if only I wasn't miserable. If only i were just as -"

"Why, Grimble?" Soren asked softly. "Why?"

"I can't tell you right now. But right now, you two'll have to come with me right now. What you're doing is terribly dangerous. What we're discussing right now could invite a fate much worse than death."

"Worse than death?" Gylfie asked. "What could be worse than death? We would rather die."

"The life I live is worse than death, I assure you," Grimble said with a heavy heart.


	16. Grimble' Story

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>Grimble led the two young owls down another crack that led to a narrow canyon away from the pelletorium. They spoke not a word, the only sound being the clicking of their talons with each step. As they neared their destination, a guard could be seen staring them down from a tall stone pedestal. The soleless black eyes bore right through Soren and Gylfie.<p>

"I have clearance hear with these two. Her Pureness has allowed it," Grimble said calmly. The guard simply looked away, not caring in the slightest.

As the trio pressed on they came to stop at the mouth of what looked like a small cavern. Stepping inside, the two owlets were greeted by the sight of books. Books lined the ledges that had been cut into the walls. Some could be found lying on the floor, while other we placed on their stands, with burning oil lamps next to them. On the opposite side to them, a gap in the wall that showed a huge view of the canyonlands. On the floor, a deep crevice stretched across the room. It was a library.

"Welcome to the library," Grimble said. He sighed and continued. "Things have been gettin' worse here. I promised myself that if anyone was smart enough, and brave enough, to resist, I'd help them." He looked back at two the Barn Owl and Elf Owl, who stood side by side.

Altough Soren already knew that Grimble was on their side, he couldn't help but ask, "But aren't you-"

"A Pure One?" Grimble finished for him. "No, I hate 'em. Almost as much as what they've turned me into."

"What do you mean?" Grylfie asked.

"My feather weren't always _stained_ with these colors," he said with shame and disgust as he gestured towards his red markings and bleached feathers. "You see, when the Pure Ones invaded Ambala, setting fire to the forest I called home just as I had returned from hunting with my mate, they snatched one of my hatchlings. It was little Bess. She was my favorite, I have to admit. I swooped in and attacked ferociously. It was actually Metalbeak's third in command, who had Bess in his Talons. His name was Ork. He was considered very dangerous and, well, I killed him. The other Pure Ones retaliated. I was subdued, and then Metalbeak and Nyra flew in. Oddly enough, they were impressed. They said they would spare my family, if I joined them. They wanted me for my skills, and while I didn't recieve a spot in the Pure Guard, they used me as a jailer for all of these enslaved non-Tyto owls. It seemed like I had no choice. I looked at my mate and my three other young'uns in the nest. I had to do it. I had to go. They begged me not to. They swore they would go elsewhere, far away. But Nyra laughed and said the Pure Ones would find them no matter where they went. So I joined them. And I've been doin' their dirty work ever since."

"That's terrible. I'm so sorry, Grimble," Gylfie whispired, her eyes close to watering.

"And now they're gone," Grimble said with a sad tone.

"Gone?" said Soren. "You mean they left?"

"They left, or were killed off or perhaps..." Grimble's voice dwindled off.

"Perhaps what?" Gylfie pressed.

"Perhaps they are there and I simply can't see them, nor do they recognize me. I think I've become like air - transparent, like nothingness. That's what happens when you spend too much time at St. Aggie's. When you take away a bird's natural habitat, and away from the sky, they tend to lose their sense of being, and the ones around lose their recognition for your. When I was allowed to visit my family for a time, my own mate couldn't tell it was me. With hardly a family to go back to, I stay here, becoming a shell of the owl I once was."

"But why? why would they do this? Ahat is the purpose of the Pure Ones?" Soren asked.

"And the flecks, what are they about?" Gylfie looked straight up at the Boreal Owl, who towered over her.

"Hmm. One simple question, one not quite simple. The purpose of the Pure Ones is take control of every owls kingdom on Earth."

"Why?" asked Soren.

"Because they're _fascists_. They think that all Tytos; Barn Owls, Masked Owls, Grass Owls, and Sooty Owls, are the noblest birds, while every other owl species is lower than dirt: They think they deserve to rule over all non-Tytos. And for the control they want they must moonblink. It erases an owl's sense of being and identity. With that, they can be made into mindless slaves, never speaking out or rebelling against their masters. The snatchers are forced to kidnap owlets in return for their families' saftey. Jatt and Jutt however, they've never been quite right in the heads. They serve by choice, mostly because it gives them a chance to be the bullies thay are. The flecks are, however, are another kind of tool, a weapon for war."

"What can they do with the flecks?" Gylfie asked.

"Well they won't tell me or any other non-Tyto, but from what I've seen so far, is that in the flecks can be used to subdue all kinds of birds, especially owls."

"Never mind that! You have to teach us to fly, Grimble!" It was Soren who blurted out the words. The idea, half formed, seemed to explode at once in his head, sending tremors all the way down his gizzard. There was a stunned silence. Gylfie and Grimble both looked at Soren and blinked but remained wordless.

"But you know, Soren, and you know, Gylfie, I can tell you what to do, and I can help you practice, but I can't do everything for you. It's very strange with flying. A young owl can do everything just perfectly but if you don't believe..."

Gylfie and Soren both blinked at Grimble and together said, "If you don't believe, then you'll never fly."

Grimble smiled. "Good." He turned around, becoming airborne for only a second, before landing on a perch some distance away from them. "Now, have you flown at all before?"

"Well, I _have_ been branching," Soren said.

"Well, you don't have the luxury of gliding down from a nest anymore," Grimble said. "We need to work on your power skills, startin' with whatcha already know. Now, show me whatcha can do."

The two young owls looked at each other for a moment, before spreading their wings and gradually running forward. As they flapped harder the both began to lift off the ground. They staggered heavily in flight as they tried to reach Grimble's position. As exhaustion got the better of them, Soren and Gylfie landed on a nearby pile of books, panting. _This must be what Kludd had to go through,_ Soren thought.

"Good," Grimble told them, not sounding the least bit dissapointed. "Try to feel every muscle; every feather, in each stroke."

The two friends then flapped back into the air, causing the books below them to flip their pages. They tried harder as they realized they had begun drawing closer to Earth.

"And push!"

Gylfie flapped as hard as her little wings could allow in one long stroke. This sent her into a midair backflip, making her lose her grip on the air. She fell right on Soren's back, bounced off, and land down on the ground, summersaulting as she tumbled from a discarded book to the floor. Soren landed, having watched his little friend's plight, and the two began laughing together.

"Allright you two, that's enough," Grimble interrupted, have chuckling himself. "Come on, back to practice."


	17. Escape

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>"More flap, deeper flap," Grimble istructed as he flew around the library, Soren and Gylfie trying to keep up. "The still air has no shape, so to gotta compensate with you down strokes." He alighted down when he saw that the two youngsters had land back on the floor spent.<p>

"I know your tired, but ya have to learn to stay airborne. That's why I brought ya both hear. The library is the second highest point in St. Aggie's. This is one of the only places here where the wind blows. The rest of the place is too deep for the wind to reach. It's dead, unmoving air. So ya gotta work extra hard to give it a shape with you power strokes, your flapping. On your upstroke, ya want the air to flow through easily. And on the down stroke, make your wingtips almost meet."

"I can't curl my feathers enough, Grimble," Gylfie whined. "My wings are too short."

"Well, they say Lyse of Kiel's wings were short; and it didn't stop him," Soren beamed at the words. "And you're gonna need to fly a long way, to get to the Guradians."

"You mean, the Guardians of Ga'Hoole?" Soren asked in awe.

"Yeah," Grimble responded.

"But how will we get there?"

"Well ya have to get to the Sea of Hoolemere, in ancient mists lies the tree that-"

"Is hidden to all but the strong of purpose and the pure of heart," Soren finished for the older owl.

"Exactly. I'd come with ya, but I still hold out the hope, of freeing my family," Grimble said sadly.

"_Really_?" a disturbingly familiar voice said from behind.

Grimble's head spun around and the three owls were greeted by a sight that sent fear through their gizzards. There stood Nyra, a sadistic grin on her face. Accompanying her, were two Pure One soldiers, their battle claws unlocked, ready to tear flesh. And most shockingly to Soren, there was Kludd with her, who took in the scene around him with confusion.

"Go," Grimble whispired to Soren and Gylfie.

"Kludd! Come with us!" Soren pleaded. Kludd simply looked at him, as if he'd been insulted by his brother's offer.

"Go! Now!" Grimble yelled. The two owlets scuttled for the ledge at the other end of the library that led to their freedom. At this, the first Pure One, a Barn owl, lunged for them. In two flaps the old Boreal Owl was in the air, ready to face his adversary. As the soldier attempted to strike with his claws, Grimble managed to dodge and with a swipe of his talons, raked through the Barn Owl's throat, sending him down into a pile of books. The second soldier, a Masked Owl, flew straight at Grimble with his battle claws extended, but the old bird saw this and raised his own talons. He caught the Pure One by his feet, and flipped backward in midair. Using the momentum, he smashed the owl's head against the stone floor, and the audible _crunch_ of its his skull could be heard.

Nyra was now getting impatient. She raised her wings and lowered her head, poised to stike. "Your little owlets won't get away," she hissed.

By the time their would-be pursuers were disposed of, both Soren and Gylfie stopped dead in their tracks. Right in front of them, was the edge of the outcropping that overlooked the entire landscape. The glimpse of the thousand-foot drop was not something that could be forgotten easily.

"Soren! What do we do?" Gylfie shrieked.

Soren had to think quickly. Should they jump and trust their gizzards, or wait for whatever happened next? All he knew is that he wouldn't leave without Kludd. He looked back. He saw that Kludd was still on the floor, and watching what transpired above. Nyra and Grimble were in the air, clawing and shrieking at one another, as they grappled with undying fury. Despite Nyra's ferocity, Grimble proved to be a very superb fighter. He had managed to dodge most of her attacks, and even hit her in the head with his own. He suddenly cuffed Nyra in the throat with his wing, and she was down in seconds. Grimble was already upon her, doing his best to hold her down to the stone floor. Meanwhile kludd, only feet away, simply looked on with astonishment. As Soren watched all of this, he was snapped back to reality by Gylfie's voice:

"Soren, we have to go!" she yelled, motioning to the open sky with her wing.

"Wait!" Soren begged. "Kludd, come on. Now's our chance!" he called for his brother, who had now looked over to him.

"Well what are ya waitin' for, son? This is your chance ta go home!" Grimble said as he pinned Nyra to the floor.

Kludd was now unsure of what to do. He looked to Soren, who beckoned for him to escape. But then he noticed Nyra, who was now screeching in distress. He had never seen her so vulnerable, or weak before. He felt sorry for her. It was only natural, since she she was so nice to him during his stay in St. Aggie's. He would never forgive himself if he'd just betrayed her like that. And for once, he was considered to be better than his brother...

"I...I am...I _am_ home," he choked out, and his eyes narrowed. Kludd raised his wings, lept forward, and with a shireking battle cry, shoved Grimble off of Nyra with all his might. He dug his talons into Grimble's breast as he pushed him through the air several feet forward. They crashed back to the floor, and Grimble's left wing slipped into the crevice that divided the library's floor. There was a sickening _crack_ as the Boreal Owl cried out in pain. His wing was broken.

Soren's brain went numb. He could not physically comprehend the sight before him. Kludd had broken Grimble's wing, after he had just tried to help them and Gylfie escaped this horrible place!

Nyra rose to her feet, and began churring. "Would you wound your queen, Grimble?" she said with malice as Kludd stood by, ready to attack again.

Grimble steadied himself, and began running right for her. "You're not my queen!" he shireked, and with his still-functioning right wing, swung out and hit a nearby oil lamp, aiming for Nyra. The contents spilled wildly, on the books, rocks, everything. The library was now alight with fire. Nyra had dodged, _hovering_ above the flames for a minute before flying straight for Soren and Gylfie, the rage burning in her eyes.

"We need to jump now, Soren!" Gylfie yelled to Soren, who had now wilted. Snapping back to his senses, he turned around fast and without thinking spread his wings. Behind him, Grimble had lept onto Nyra's back as she passed him, and the two owls were now tumbling towards them is a flurry of beaks, talons and feathers.

"Now!" Gylfie screeched, and the two owlets slipped from the outcropping and began plummeting to Earth. Grimble and Nyra, still having each other in their talons, fell of with them. The air ravaged their plumages as the owlets rapidly dropped, flapping their wings frantically. Soren found himself catching more air with each wingbeat, using the same tip Grimble had given him about using his down strokes. However, Gylfie, with her shorter wings, was having much more difficulty.

"Come on, Gylfie, Flap! Flap your wings!" Soren screamed as loud as he could, trying to drown out the sound of Nyra and Grimble fighting. He dared not look back. Through the corner of his eyes he saw two Pure Ones fly up above him. He knew what they were going to do. But right now there were more important things to deal with; he saw Gylfie tumbling in midair, and they were now dangerously close to the ground. Having all the lift he needed, Soren flew downward and just as the neared the rocky ground, he skimmed Gylfie's body with his left wing. She leveled out, and she was now following Soren in flight, flapping

"Don't look back!" They heard Grimble yell. "Go! Go tell the Guardians!"

They did not look back. They did not see three Tytos holding up the torn owl as they glided downward. They did not hear Grimble's sighs of relief as his body went limp waiting for his former mistress to kill him. Just as Nyra, in one sweep of her talons, broke his neck, he whispired to himself the ancient owl prayer: _"I have redeemed myself by giving the belief to the wings of the young. Blessed are those who believe, for they shall fly."_

Nyra, satisfied as she watched Grimble's body fall to the ground, returned her attention to the runaway owlets. She flapped as hard as she could after them, the two soldiers having already taken the lead.

Soren and Gylfie looked back upon hearing noisy wingbeats, and began flapping even harder as they caught sight of their pursuers. They didn't know where they were flying to, but all they cared about was getting away from the Pure Ones. Soren looked up and saw that they were once again cut off from the sky. As they barreled through the winding cavern, he could dimly make out a few rays of sunlight through the fog.

"Look, there! I see a way!" He called to Gylfie, who was lagging behind him.

"Where?" She asked, before she felt cold metal slice messily through the skin of her right leg. Despite the pain, she refused to give up, and flapped harder after her friend.

"Gylfie, come on, follow me!" Soren called back. The two owls dodged the incoming pillars of rock, getting closer and closer to their target. Their it was; a open hole in the canyon wall, with bright sunlight shining through it. They were so close they could almost taste freedom. Soren closed his eyes and folded his wings in, and zoomed through the opening. Gylfie was next, immedietly followed by the sparks and scraping sound as their pursuers' battleclaws scratched against the rock as he tried to grab them, which now stuck out through the hole, too small to fit through. As Soren and gylfie dissapeared into the mist outside of St. Aggie's, they heard an ear-shattering shree of rage that echoed throughout the entire canyon. Suddenly, they felt a curl of warm air under their wings. It was as if vast and gentle wings had reached out and swept them up into the sky. They were now, finally free.


	18. Flying Free

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. They belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner bros._

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><p>Deep in the canyonlands, above the pelletorium, a frusturated Barn Owl brooded. Nyra had a lot on her mind right now, and most of it was about what had transpired an hour earlier. Grimble had betrayed her, allowing two owlets to escape and she killed him for it. What's more, his last words had been, "Go tell the Guardians". That sent a pang of distress and anger through her. He meant the Guardians of Ga'Hoole, the same brutish, insane owls who had stopped the Pure Ones' schemes many years ago, and forever destroyed the once handsome face of her beloved mate. Something had to be done, and quickly. But on the bright side, Kludd, who now stood behind her, had actually chosen the Pure Ones over his brother. He was ambitious; ruthless. she liked that in a soldier. Finally she slowly turned around and spoke.<p>

"Grimble's death ...was unfortunate. But you," she tilted Kludd's chin up. "You had a chance to follow your brother, yet you didn't. Perhaps you have what it it takes to be one of us."

Kludd percked up. "Oh, I'd like that."

"We have a power, and purpose." Nyra suddenly snapped, not expecting let Kludd get off so easily. "What could you offer us? What can you offer _me_?"

The idea just popped into his head. He remembered what she had said about needing strong fliers. This was probably his last chance to prove himself to her. "I, uh...I have a sister."

"Hmm, go on."

"She's young..." Kludd continued. "But she's got spirit. And will grow into a strong, loyal Tyto."

Nyra chuckled. "I hope so. Here, the young ones, are our future. We will take a scout party, with your fellow recruits." She turned around. "Jatt! Jutt!"

The two pea-brained Long Eared Owls flew up from the hole in the floor and bowed nervously.

"Y-yes, your Pureness?" Jatt asked cautiously.

"Was this one of the two owlets you snatched?" she gestured to kludd, who churred at the sight of these idiot birds showing fear and submission.

"Uh, yes,"

"Good. Then I need you to take us back to where you found him. We are planning to take in his sister as well. I shall arrange an armed escort for us. Don't forget."

"We won't Madame General, we won't," the brothers said in unison, before flying off in a panic.

Nyra then turned to face a Grass Owl soldier, who had been ideley standing by during the conversation. "You. Find two other soldiers, and track down a young Barn Owl and Elf Owl. Kill them on sight, for they are attempting to find an ancient enemy. I want their bloodied feathers brought back as proof. Understand?"

"Yes, my queen," the Pure One said, before becoming airborne and flying out a crevice through which the sunset shone.

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><p>Several miles away, high up in the clouds the two young owls in question were relishing in the miracle of flight. To Soren, it felt wonderful. With his wings he scooped the air, shaping it. There was not the desperate need for flapping and pumping now. Instinctively, he stilled his wings and rode the thermal updrafts, rising higher without even stirring a feather. He looked over to Gylfie, who was making sure to stay within the same updraft. Grimble was right. They knew exactly what to do. Instinct and belief flowed through the hollow bones of the two owls as they flew into the sunset.<p>

It had seemed that after being locked in the still air of the windless canyons and ravines of St. Aegolius, the two owls were encountering every kind of wind and draft imaginable. Soren had not known how long they had flown when he heard Gylfie call out, "Hey Soren, are you feeling a little hungry?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Good. Because I am," Gylfie said.

A moment ago, the idea of hunger had escaped Soren entirely. They hadn't eaten since earlier this morning, and it wasn't much of a meal to begin with. Plus, he had never hunted before in is entire life. But he had to do something, especially with Gylfie. With her leg injury she couldn't catch her own food comfortably, so that meant he had to hunt for the both of them. The two owls then began to descend below the clouds and had a clear view of the landscape; sand dunes, cacti, and sparse brush.

Gylfie gasped. "It's Kuneer!"

She was right. This was Kuneer. It was the same place they had passed through on their way to St. Aegolius. He remembered it like it was just yesterday. But those thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a fast, repetitive noise - a rapid beating sound. It was a heartbeat. In his gizzard Soren knew what it was, a mouse, and his beak began to water.

"So, you still hungry?"

Soren quickly flapped his wings in a series of powerful upstrokes and gained some height. He cocked his head one way, then the other. Flexing the muscles in his ear slits and the feathers of his facial disk, he began to hone in on the mouse's position. The heartbeat seemed to pulse across his face. he knew where this creature was and, without even thinking, began a rapid downward spiral.

He now had the mouse in talons, and just before he could break its neck with his beak...

"Hey!"

Soren spun around to see what looked a Burrowing Owl emerging from a large hole in the ground. "_Nice hunting_. You should be _really_ proud of yourself," the owl said sarcastically. "Catching a mouse that already been caught!"

"Wait a minute," Soren shot back. "you hadn't caught it!"

The new owl began to stammer, trying to find a way around Soren's well-made point. "Well, uh, I was pretty _close_. You might even say I was 'this' close." He held up his left leg and pinched two of his talons together as close as they could go without touching. Before Soren could object, he felt his catch move under his foot, and before he could react, the mouse had scurried away into the brush where no one could get to it.

"_Perfect,_" the owl muttered.

Behind him, Soren heard Gylfie land close by and clear her throat for attention. The other owl spun around, surprised.

"An ambush, huh?" he accused. "Well, I be you didn't count on this!" he raised his wings defensively, as if ready to take off. But instead, he turned around an began making his way back into the hole he had emerged from, kicking up dirt with his talons in all directions, most of which hit Soren. He was then back underground, hidden from view. Gylfie now turned her head and looked down into the hole. "Uh, I'm sorry. We didn't mean to take your mouse."

"It wasn't his mouse!" Soren exclaimed, earning him a glare.

"Yes it was," The owl said quickly from within the burrow.

"Anyway," Gylfie continued. "We were just looking for a place to hide and rest."

Half of the Burrowing Owl's head had just popped out of the hole. "In which order?"

"What do you mean?" Soren asked, confused.

"I mean do you need to hide first or rest first?" the odd owl asked in one breath.

"What difference does it make?" Gylfie said impatiently.

At this, the Burrowing Owl had completely emerged from his hiding place in one leap, making Soren and Gylfie flinch. "Huge!" he answered. "If you need to hide first, I'd say you're in pretty big trouble." He tilted his head, smiled, and then scurried around behind them like a roadrunner. "But if _resting_ was on your mind, I'd say your situation wasn't as dark." He then ran back to his previous position, making strange gestures to himself. This was one seriously zany owl.

"Well, we're on our way to the Sea of Hoolemere. We're gonna find the Guardians of Ga'Hoole," Soren spoke up, calmly this time.

"Hmm, really?" The Burrowing owl said, appearing to become sane again. "Two young owls like you will never reach the sea. There are some really scary beasts out that way."

"Scary beasts?" Gylfie asked.

"Yep. The wolves; they'll make a quick lunge at you. Then the buzzards will. And if they don't get you, the dingos, wait in the trees, and as you fly by, you - "

"Our request remains the same, owl," Soren interrupted, not wanting the conversation to draw any further away from reality. "Please, do you have a place to rest. My friend's hurt." He gestured to Gylfie's right leg, which was still hurting her.

Sympathy could be seen of the Burrowing Owl's face. "Name's Digger." He fluttered up onto a large root and pointed to a large desert tree. "The hollow's this way."

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><p><strong>Well there you go, I finally introduced Digger. And unlike, a search party is sent to find Soren and Gylfie, much like in the first book. An another note, I decided that the prey item that Soren 'took' from Digger would be a mouse, not a moth. I mean seriously, a moth? Snyder could have made it something a little bigger.<strong>

**Anywho, please review.**


	19. New Accomodations

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. They belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner bros._

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><p>The three owls squeezed through the small entrance to the hollow, avoiding the droplets of water that occasionally fell from above. It felt good to be back inside a real hollow, instead of the rocky pit of St. Aggie's. It was warm inside, and lined with soft moss that had grown inside over the years.<p>

"So," Digger spoke up. "Flying towards the sea, huh?"

"Yeah," Soren said.

"You know what they call owls who fly towards the sea?" Digger turned around, his zany grin returning.

"No, what?" Soren asked, slightly offput by Digger's smirk.

"Lost!" Digger answered, laughing to himself. Both Soren and Gylfie looked at each other with puzzled expressions. Digger seemed like a friendly owl, but it was pretty obvious that his tree didn't make it all the way to the top branch.

"Let's look at that leg of yours, eh?" Digger motioned for Gylfie to step forward. The little Elf Owl hopped up to him as he examined the cut on her leg. "Oh, I know just the trick." The Burrowing Owl went over to a far corner of the hollow, humming a tune to himself. He dug around in the dirt before picking up a leech and two fat worms in his beak, before returning to his patient.

"Now I know this may seem a bit gross," Digger said a he lay the leech on Gylfie's cut, "but this will cleanse it. Twilight taught me this."

"Who's Twilight?" asked Soren.

"Oh just my hollowmate," said Digger. "He's off somewhere looking for the tastiest delicacy and owl could ask for. He might not be back for a while."

After the leech had done its work, Digger replaced it with the worms, which soothed Gylfie greatly. After that, the cooky Burrowing Owl had left the hollow to find some food. He had returned with three small gophers which his guest had eaten with surprising vigor. He was confused to know they hadn't had much meat to eat for quite a while now.

"So who are you two anyway?"

"I'm Soren, born and raised in the Forest Kingdom of Tyto. And this is Gylfie, from here in Kuneer."

"Ah, easy to see. But what are you doing here of all places?"

"Well you see," Gylfie started, "If you've read the Legends of Ga'Hoole, then you may have heard of a group called the Pure Ones. They believe in Tyto supremacy and want to rule the world by enslaving all other owls. They had snatched both me and Soren from our homes while we were...how should I put it? Trying to fly before we were ready. We were forced to be apart of the slave labor before we escaped, and I guess that leads up to where we are now."

Soren could see Digger's spirit dull. Something about their story was upsetting him. "Is something wrong, Digger?"

"It hurts to talk about it," Digger sighed, who now looked very hurt.

"Were you snatched?" Gylfies asked.

After a few seconds, Digger said, "No. But I had a brother who was snatched."

"Oh my," Gylfie gasped.

"Are you sure you want to keep it all in?" Soren tried his best not to pry.

"Well, you two are pretty swell," said Digger. "All right then. First off, I grew up like most Burrowing Owls do; in a hole in the ground under a cactus. There was me, my Mum and Da, and my two brothers Tars and Flick. We'd always have the best of time together, playing in the sand and chatting it up with a Prairie Dog or two. One night our parents had gone out hunting when everything went downhill. These two Long-eared Owls swooped in and dug out of the burrow as we hid. They then started arguing over what to do with us." Digger's voice began to crack. "One of them said that there was one too many of us to take back. And Flick, he was always such a chubby fellow, and they...they...they ate him.

As if Soren had not grasped the horror of the Pure Ones before, a huge wave of anguish, disgust, and terror had washed over him in that moment. Now owls were eating other owls. Cannibalism was so frowned upon in the world of birds; it was considered revolting and indecent. And now even Jatt and Jutt had stooped so low.

"Glaux, I'm so sorry," Gylfie said with pity in her voice. She went up to Digger and began to preen some of his feathers.

"So what happened next?" Soren asked.

"I snuck away while they...and started living on my own for a while. Then one night this coyote caught me by surprise. But as luck would have it, Twilight came along. Apparently he had a friendly history with this coyote and he convinced him to let me go. I've stuck with him ever since."

"Wow. Anyway I'm sorry that happened to you, Digger," Soren said.

"Thanks," Digger perked up. "Now uh, you two look tired. Why don't you both settle down for a snooze?"

"That's the best idea anyone's given us for a long time."

Soren slept so soundly one may have mistaken him for dead. It felt good to sleep in a hollow, even in an empty one, with his head tucked under his wing in a normal sleeping position.

The a voice, a familiar voice, pierced his sleep. He felt himself frozen and unable to move. It was as if he had gone yeep, his wings locked. Was he dreaming or sleeping? It was Grimble's voice. They were back in the canyonlands of St. Aggie's. Soren was madly pumping his wings. "Go! Go tell the Guardians!" the voice cried. And then a terrible shriek. "Don't look back! Don't look back!" But they did.

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><p><strong>Well what do you think? Another chapter to squeeze into the story, wouldn't you agree? Please review.<strong>


	20. Mrs P!

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. They belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner bros._

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><p>"Wake up, wake up! You're both having daymares. Wake up." It was Digger shaking them. Soren and Gylfie awoke together with the same terrible images of a torn owl, falling as he was killed. "You two have been asleep for nearly two days."<p>

"It's Grimble," Gylfie said. "He's dead."

"I know. We both had the same dream but...but..., Gylfie, it was just a dream. Grimble might be fine."

"No," Gylfie said sadly. "No. I tried not to look but I caught a glympse. The torn wings, Nyra snapping his neck." Gylfie's voice dwindled into the first dim gray of the coming night.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"because," she hesitated. It sounded so stupid, but it was the truth. "Because I was flying. I had just felt that first soft cushion of air beneath my wings. I was about to soar and I forgot everything. I was just wings...and..."

Soren understood. It was not stupid. It was just the way they were. In the moment Grimble had died, they had become what they were always intended to be. Their destinies had been rendered. Flight was theirs.

"Sorry that happened. If i was there, I'd probably underst - " Digger's sentence was interrupted by the fluttering of wings and a shadow enveloping them. "Oh! Twilight! We've got company."

Entering the hollow, was the most enormous owl Soren had ever seen. The owl, a silvery gray color, seemed to simply melt out of the fog outside, and towered over all of them. His head alone, with his enormous facial disk, was almost twice the size of Gylfie. It was very difficult for Soren to imagine that such a big bird could fit inside this old hollow. He was a Great Gray. In his beak was a writhing and protesting snake, with rosy-red scales. He plopped it on the floor in front of him, and Soren could immediately recognize her; it was Mrs. Plithiver!

"Dinner is served, as she will not stop talking!" the owl announced in a deep, booming voice. But right now, Soren was only paying attention to his nest maid, who was currently on the menu for his new-found friends.

"Mrs. P, it's me Soren!" he exclaimed to her. Even without eye, Mrs. P could immediatley tell it was him. She leeped up and coiled around him and a powerful embrace.

"Soren, thank goodness it's you!" she said with glee. "For whole days and nights I've been looking for you and Kludd and then this: To be snatched up by this monstrosity!" she glared at the large silvery owl.

"Monstrosity?" the owl sputtered. "The audacity! Digger, who are these tiny owls and why are they talking to dinner?" Soren scowled as the larger bird for refering to his nest maid as "dinner". He puffed out his feathers defensively, making himself look larger than normal.

"My name is not dinner!" Mrs. Plithiver hissed.

"Well, dinner's rather moody isn't it?" the Great Gray mutterd.

"Wait, she's not dinner! She's my nest maid!" Soren scowled, then turned around. "Anyway, Mrs. P, are you allright?"

"I'm fine," she said, calming down. "Just shaken up a bit. Who are all of these young'uns?"

"Well, these are my friends; Gylfie and Digger and...Twilight, is it?" he asked the larger owl.

"Charmed to meet you all," Twilight said, hopping down from his perch next to Digger. "I am Twilight, the Great Gray of Kuneer." He bowed his head in a charismatic manner.

"So, Twilight. These two are off to the Sea of Hoolemere, to find the Guardians of the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole," Digger explained to his large hollowmate.

"What? No, Soren. We need to get you home. Your parents are worried sick," Mrs. P. said sternly.

"I can't Mrs. P.," Soren calmly argued. "It's not that simple, because Kludd and I were kidnapped."

"Mercy!"

"He's still being held captive by the Pure Ones, the same from the book back home," Soren knew what he saw. He knew he heard Kludd say he was at home with the Pure Ones. He knew he saw him break Grimble's wing. But he tried to block it out. He couldn't admit He Kludd would join such as despicable cause. "That's why I have to find the Guardians; they're the only ones who can save him."

"Wow. An adventure afoot!" Twilight said, fascinated by Soren's story. "Danger! Intruiqe! the stuff of song." He pulled out what looked like a chunk of hollowed out root, with several tight strings stretching across it.

"Oh no, not the lute," Digger groaned as Twilight began to balance himself on his instrument, plucking the stings with his talons, emmiting a soft musical tempo.

"But such things have no effect on me," the big owl said, ignoring Digger's complaint. "For I am a poet, as much as a warrior." he cleared his throat.

_Though his nest maid tells him no,_

_The boy will not be tamed,_

_He flies into danger,_

_To be battered, bruised and maimed!_

Gylfie scrunched her face in discomfort. Altough the music sounded fine, Twilight's singing voice was rather sour, especially at the end. Soren was doing the same thing, While Mrs. P coiled around herself in discomfort. Digger however, seemed most disturbed.

"Just because it's _sung_, doesn't make it a _song_."

"That poem just came to me, if you can believe it."

"Oh yeah, _I_ can believe it."

"It's a gift."

Soren knew they couldn't stay here much longer. As nice as Digger and Twilight were, they had a mission to complete. They had to warn the Guardians about the Pure Ones and their malevolant intentions. And now, with a third wheel in tow (one who couldn't fly for that matter), there was no more time to be wasted.

"Well, now," he said akwardly. "We have a long journey ahead. We'd better going." He looked to Mrs. Plithiver, who still appeared reluctant.

"Come on Mrs. P. You know it's what da would want," he pleaded.

The old blind snake smiled. "That's just why I'm coming with you."

"What?" Twilight exclaimed with desperation. Both he and Digger raised their wing to form a wall, effectively blocking the trio from the entrance to the hollow. "Please do not leave us!" Twilight begged.

"Yeah, you're the first new souls we've seen in eight moon cycles!" Digger added.

Twilight gestured to Digger with a wing. "If I have to hear any more of his _rediculous_ owl jokes..."

"What? They're a hoot!" Digger protested.

"No they are not." Twilight shot back plainly.

"Well," Digger shot back, insulted. "If I have to hear one more, quote, unquote, 'song', I'm going to tear my gizzard out!"

"How dare you! If you think for one minute, I..." The bickering hollowmates had noticed that Soren, Gylfie, and Mrs. P had aleardy begun to sneak past them and towards the mouth of the hollow.

"Please don't go," Digger begged. "Do you...even _know_ the way to the Sea of Hoolemere?"

The trio stopped dead in their tracks. The Burrowing Owl had a point; they truly did not know where to go. For Soren, the legends had said that following the River of Hoole, which started in Tyto Forest, was the easiest way. But which direction to take? How could anyone find their way out of this desert, if you couldn't tell north from south?

"Twilight know the way," Digger piped up after the brief moment of silence.

"Oh yes! Of coarse I know the way!" The great Gray's baratone voice confirmed. "We are off, to the Sea of Hoolemere!" he exclaimed.

* * *

><p>There was nothing like desert flying. The night was not really black, but a deep, dark blue. And altough the sky was chilly, from time to time heat from the desert sands rolled up in great waves into the night, turning rough air smooth. The four owls would soar for endless minutes on the soft desert drafts, angling their tail fathers and primaries, carving great arcs in the darkness of the blue.<p>

Twilight knew quite a lot. He told Soren and Gylfie the names of the constellations - the Great Glaux, who one wing pointed toward a star that never moved. There was another one called the Little Raccoon, and then on summer nights, he said, the Big Raccoon rose in the sky and and appeared to dance, so some called it the Dancing Raccoon. Another was the Eye of Glaux, which looked like the eye of a giant owl, that seemed to stare down at them. a fifth one was called the Whale's Fin, which resembled one of the great sea mammals as it swam throught the sky. Still another was called the Great Crow because it spread its wings in the early autumm skies. On this night, they flew under the bright and starry wings of the Great Glaux.

"Wee!" Mrs. P yelled with glee as she stuck her head out of the hole in Twilight's lute. The Great Gray had kindly offered her to house herself inside it while they flew. They could all tell she was having the ime of her life. "I'm in the Yonder! I can't believe this is happening!"

Digger chuckled. 'You know, Mrs. P, you might be the first snake ever to fly!"

"You know, i think I am..." she realized, "and I quite like it!"

Soren chuckled to himself. The journey would be smooth sailing from here on out. All they had to do, was find the River of Hoole, follow it, and they would find the Sea of Hoolemere, and then the Great Tree. Nothing could stand ing their way.

Unbeknownst to this new group of friends, they were not alone in the sky that night...

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><p><strong>Damn, this took me a while. Anyway, here we are; the band is finally headed for the tree. By the way I will introduce Twilight's backround next chapter, so wait and see. Please review.<strong>


	21. Desert Battle

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

Chapter 20: The journey begins

Dawn had broken over St. Aegolius, and the skies were a mixture of red and orange, as usual. St. Aggies never had a bright and sunny day; it alway looked like morning or afternoon whenever the sun was out. not that it mattered anyway, for the sun was now hidden by the vast clouds of smoke from the seeminly perpetual forest fire that ravaged a large grove of dead trees nearby. even if there was no smoke, it wouldn't have made today any brighter.

Nyra led her scout party of Pure Ones through the southern end of St. Aggie's. Instead of ravines and caverns, there were great flat plains of rock, and towering spiars. To her left, the great forest fire, and to her right, the Flying Foxes could be seen conjugating with buckets of flecks. She smiled to herself; the construction of the Devil's Triangle was nearly complete. But they'd have to test it before it's true purpose could be realized.

Flanking the malicious queen, were the two highest ranking soldiers of the Pure Guard: Comander Stryker, and Lieutenant Wortmore. In her wake, was Kludd, as well as the other young recruits whoe had joined the Pure One's noble cause. Further behind them, were the two Long eared Owls, Jatt and Jutt, carrying their precious cargo, a young Barn Owlet named Eglantine. The one called Kludd, had led them back to his hollow where they had found her all alone. She told Kludd their parents, as well as their nest-maid snake, had gone out to find him and his brother. Kludd had told her to come with him, and before she could respond, Jatt had her in his talons. Now, the thirteen-and-a-half owls flew through the rocky landscape to their next destination.

They posse was headed for an exceptionally large spiar, which stood taller than all the others around it. Near the top was what looked like the mouth of a cave, and most of the bottom had a huge gap with a small stream running through it. As he and the others entered the bottom of the stone tower, Kludd could see that the inside was hollow. Inside were stalagites of all sizes, and Pure One banners lined the walls. As the owls began to turned upwards, the vertical cavern opened up into a huge cave. The ceiling was covered with jaaged stalagtites, with sleeping bats nestled in between. The 'floor' was a flattened platform of granite, large enough for all the owls to land upon. They faced a large hole in wall they had ssen from before outside, between which a strange design had been built.

It was an arch carved from wood, decorated with red banners and lit torches. Within it was a thick ring, made from tisted branches and elephant tusks. The ring was attached to a rock carved to look like an owl's open talons. And in the center of it all, was a large, dark figure, an owl from the looks of it. The thin slivers of sunlight silohetted him, casting his shadow across the floor of the cave. His back was turned to them, and he was hunched over. this seemed more like a fat vulture than an owl. But the huge apparatus he was perched on meant he was very, very important. Kludd was getting scared. This _had_ to be the Lord High Tyto that Nyra had kept talking about. This had to be the leader of the Pure Ones from Soren's favorite book. This had to be...Metalbeak. Kludd began to wilt, but held his ground. In front of him, Nyra, Styker, and Wortmore, as well as Jatt and Jutt behind him, lowered their heads submissively. Kludd and the other young Tytos were soon to follow. In the protective shadow of her brother, Eglantine was gently nudged by Jatt's wing to do the same.

Nyra lifted up into the air and settled down on a lower perch by her mate. "My lord."

"Hmm?" the giant owl turned his head slightly to face her.

"Our work at St. Aegolius is nearly done." Nyra spoke softly, but with seriousness in her tone. "The last of the flecks are on their way, and I've brought you an offering with beating hearts." she turned her own head to face the younger owls. "Your new soldiers; tested and pure. One in particular, shows exceptional promise." She gestured to Kludd, who now wilted at his newfound attention.

The beastly owl scoffed. "I'll be the judge of that." his voice was low and gruff, but metallic at the same time. He turned around fully to face the young Barn Owl. "You, soldier. Step forward now."

The young owl could now see his new leader in full form. He was a Sooty Owl, an extremely large Sooty Owl, actually taller than Nyra. His plumage was a deep black, but became an ashy gray down by his legs, which sported the deadliest-looking battle claws Kludd had ever seen. Behind the high Tyto's mask, were dark, soleless eyes that bore right through him. The right eye was black, while the other was a milky gray that seemed to follow Kludd around. But the most frightening feature was his mask. It was not unlike that of the Pure One's battle helmets, but it had the luster of silver, with small engravings on it. In the center, was a long, pointy protrusion that resembled an owl's upper beak, and it even looked like it had been smelted in place. Kludd, with his feathers tight against his body, slowly walked closer in the High Tyto's shadow, quivering.

"Yes, you're right to be afraid in my presence." the High Tyto said, half amused, but serious. "What is your name?"

Kludd felt his name escape his beak, but it sounded more like a squeak mixed with a whisper. "Kludd."

"Speak up!" The larger bird snapped sternly, making Kludd flinch.

"Kludd! My name is Kludd." he managed to stand up straighter and nearly shouted.

"There, that's better." The High Tyto said. "Remember, weakness is for the lower species, _never. for. us._ Do you know why, Kludd?"

Kludd paused. He had thought it over, then remembered what every Pure One around him had said. The words came out naturally for him, his voice like that of a disciplined soldier, a true Pure Ones; "Because we, _are, _Tytos."

Metalbeak chuckled with plesaure. This one would prove useful. Behind Kludd, eglantine bgan to wimper with fright. She didn't understand much of what was going on, but she knew this was bad, and that Kludd was in on it. All she could do, was wait and hope she would see Soren again.

...

Far away, at the borders of Ambala and Tyto, the Band had found large tree with a warm and spacious hollow. Soren and Gylfie were relieved to be finally able to rest, and get a break from Digger's corny owl jokes. As Mrs. Plithiver went to work at eating up all of the annoying grubs and maggots that littered the hollow floor, Twilight had gone out to hunt. When he returned, he had brought back a strange tree-dwelling creature called a sugar glider. He told them it used the membranes of skin between its legs to glide from tree to tree like a flying squirrel. It tasted sweet, and Soren had to admit that he had never been so weel fed. They all praised Twilight for his exceptional hunting skills. As they dozed off to sleep, he made a soft melody on his lute that had put them right out.

"If I never taste another sugar glider it'll be toon soon." Digger beltched softly. "They keep repeating on me."

The four owls and Mrs. P. had left at First Black. they had now alighted on a tree limb with a good view down the valley. They were looking for a creek - any creek that could feed into a river and hopefully would lead to the River of Hoole, which they could follow to the Sea of Hoolemere.

'What do you mean 'keep repeating on you'?" Soren said, imagining the little wide-eyed creatures gliding in and out of digger's beak.

"Just an expression. My da used to say that after he ate centipedes." Digger explained. "And the mum would say, 'Well, of course they keep repeating on you, dear. You eat something that has all those legs, they're probably running around inside you.' "

Gylfie, Twilight, and Soren burst out laughing.

Digger chuckled. "My mum was really funny. I sure do miss her jokes."

"Really, was she she funnier than you, or did you just steal her material?" Twilight teased. Gylfie and Soren burst out laughing once again. Digger raised one brow with a sour expression. "Critic." he pouted.

Twilight had hopped to a higher branch to see if he could spot any trace of the creek that led to a river.

"He's not going to be able to see anything in this light. I don't care how good his eyes are. A black trickle of a creek in a dark forest - forget it," Gylfie said.

Suddely, Soren cocked his head, first one way, then the other.

"What is it, Soren?" Digger asked.

"Do you hear something?" Twilight flew down and landed on a thin branch that creaked under his weight.

"Hush!" Soren said.

They all fell silent and watched as the Barn Owl tipped, cocked, and pivoted his head in a series of small movements. And, finaly, Soren heard something. "There's a trickle. I hear it. It's not a lot of water, but I can hear that it begins in reeds and then starts to slide over stones. Let's go. I'll lead."

It was one of the first few times anyone except Twilight had flown in the point position.

As Soren flew, he kept angling his head so his that his two uneven ears could precisely locate the source of water. Within a few minutes, they had found a trickle and that trickle turned into a stream, a stream full of the music of gently tumbling water. Then by dawn that stream had become a river - the River of Hoole.

"A masterful job at triangulation," Gylfie cried. "Simply masterful, Soren. You're a premiere navigator."

"What's she saying?" Digger asked.

"She's saying that Soren got us here. Big words, little owl." But it was evident that Twilight was clearly impressed.

"So now what do we do?" Digger asked again.

"Follow the river to the sea of Hoolemere," Twilight said. "Come on. We still have a few hours until First Light."


	22. An Old Friend Discovered

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

* * *

><p>"My name is Streak," said the smaller eagle, "and this is my mate, Zan. She is mute and cannot speak." Zan nodded to the band and dipped her beak almost to the desert floor. "Her tongue," Streak continued, "was torn out by the evil ones."<p>

"The evil ones?" Soren said. "Jatt and Jutt?"

"And Nyra, and those wicked creatures who called the Pure Ones. I dare not call them birds."

"Was Zan the one who tried to resue Hortense's egg?"

Zan bobbed her head excitedly.

"Yes, indeed, and she did resuce it but it was on that mission that she lost her tongue," Streak explained.

Soren turned to Zan. "We saw what happened. You are both so brave to have helped Hortense."

"Hortense is a brave one. There has never been an owl quite like Hortense. Do know that in Ambala nearly every other newly hatched owlet is being named hortense, even if it's male?"

"My goodness!" Gylfie sighed. "And she hated that name so much. At least, that's what she told us."

"Well, a hero is known by one name now in the Kingdom of Ambala and that name is Hortense."

"What are you two doing here in Kuneer anyway?" Twilight asked.

"We fly patrol over Kuneer," Streak said, nodding at Gylfie and Digger. "We have a great liking for these desert creatures. while we were out hunting once, one of our little ones tried to fly before she was really ready. You know young ones. It's the one thing we always tell them not to do - don't try to fly too soon, never leave the nest when Mum and Da are away, and, bless my beak, don't a few always go and try it? She got a far piece but didn't know how to land and brok a small wing bone. One of these strange little owls, the ones that burrow in the sand, found out little Fiona and tucked her into their hole, fed her, coddled her, took the best care of her till her bone mended and she could fly. They found out where she came from and brought her back to us. Zan and I have always believed that there is more goodness than evil in the world. But you know, you still have to work at it. So that's what Zan and i do, now that all the little ones are gone. we work at it - doing good, that is."

"Wait a minute," Soren suddenly spoke up. "About Hortense; what do mean by, 'she _is_ a hero'? Don't you mean, '_was_ a hero?'"

"What do you mean?"

"Hortense fell to her death. She's dead."

At this Streak churred. "Oh no, dear boy. For you see, Hortense, is alive."

"What?" Soren and Gylfie gasped. "B-b-b-but, we heard her fall! Nyra pushed her off the cliff in the hatchery! How did she survive?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Streak stepped aside. Between the two eagles was a figure that the Band could barley make out. It was now assuming a definite form and appeared to be a somewhat shrunken Spotted Owl, but its feathers were like fog. Despite such an oddity, Soren could recognize the deep brown eyes anywhere. It was Hortense!

"Hortense, it's you! Thank Glaux you're alive!" Soren and Gylfie both exclaimed as the ran up and embraced Hortense with their wings, tears in their eyes.

Hortense churred as she hugged them back. "Yes, yes, it's me. But please, call me Mist."

The two younger owls pulled back. "How did you survive? And what happened to your feathers?"

"More importantly, how did you two escape?" Hortense, or Mist, asked.

"It's kind of a sad story actually," Gylfie said. "You see, one of the owls, Grimble, was a turnfeather against the Pure Ones. He snuck away with us into the St. Aggie's library. He told us that he was forced to serve them for his family's safety. There, he taught us how to fly. But before we could escape, we were caught by Nyra. She killed Grimble, but we managed to get away. from there, we met Twilight and Digger here, and Mrs. Plithiver. But enough about us, what about you?"

"Well," Hortense began, "as it turns out, Streak here had actually followed Zan to St. Aggie's all along. He had been hiding and watching amongst the rocks in the canyon. He and Zan had feared that I would be discovered soon. Thanks to pure coincidence, he had saved my life. They took me back to their nest in Ambala, and during my time their, something very strange began to occur. I had begun to fledge, but my feathers lost their natural colors. In fact, they lost so much color that some of them are transparent." She plucked a small feather from her left wing and held it up to the two owls. It was as clear as glass. "And even tough I'm fledged, my flight skills are rather undeveloped. I can only fly for so long. Knowing this, I guess my only choice now is to live as a dead hero. That's why I've taken the name Mist. so from now on, I'll just have to stay here with Zan and Streak."

"But Hortense, you have to come with us," Soren pleaded.

"Where is you are going?" Streak asked.

"To the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole. We have to find the Guardians and tell them about the Pure Ones. But we can't do it without your help."

"Yes you can," Hortense said. "I believe in you. You two had managed to escape from that awful place. When we first talked up above the hatchery, I could see the making of a true hero in you. Besides, with my flying I'll only slow you down. I might come to the tree one day, but that's not important right now, Soren. What is important is that you have to find the Guardians of Ga'Hoole, and warn them about this evil that threatens the owl kingdoms. They're the only ones who can save us."

Soren was moved by this shot, yet deep speech. But Hortense was right. The Guardians were the only ones who could defeat the Pure Ones. If the owl kingdoms were to survive, they had to be stopped.

"You're right." Soren said, looking down. "I guess we better get going then. Mabye we'll see each other again soon."

"Mabye we will. Now go; and good luck."

"Thank you," Soren paused. "Mist." And without another word, the four owls and snake took off into the night, determined to find the order of knightly owls, who were sworn to make strong the weak, mend the broken, and vanquish evil.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there you go, the Band is now off to find the Great Tree. Please review.<strong>


	23. The Journey Begins

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

* * *

><p>Dawn had broken over St. Aegolius, and the skies were a mixture of red and orange as usual. St. Aggies never had a bright and sunny day; it alway looked like morning or afternoon whenever the sun was out. Not that it mattered anyway, for the sun was now hidden by the vast clouds of smoke from the seeminly perpetual forest fire that ravaged a large grove of dead trees nearby. even if there was no smoke, it wouldn't have made today any brighter.<p>

Nyra led her scout party of Pure Ones through the southern end of St. Aggie's. Instead of ravines and caverns, there were great flat plains of rock, and towering spiars. To her left, the great forest fire, and to her right, the Flying Foxes could be seen conjugating with buckets of flecks. She smiled to herself; the construction of the Devil's Triangle was nearly complete. But they'd have to test it before it's true purpose could be realized.

Flanking the malicious queen, were Styker and Wortmore. In her wake was Kludd, as well as the other young recruits who had joined the Pure One's noble cause. Further behind them, was Tarn and the two Long eared Owls, Jatt and Jutt, carrying their precious cargo, a young Barn Owlet named Eglantine. The one called Kludd, had led them back to his hollow where they had found her all alone. She told Kludd their parents, as well as their nest-maid snake, had gone out to find him and his brother. Kludd had told her to come with him, and before she could respond, Tarn had her in his talons. Now, the thirteen-and-a-half owls flew through the rocky landscape to their next destination.

They posse was headed for an exceptionally large spiar, which stood taller than all the others around it. Near the top was what looked like the mouth of a cave, and most of the bottom had a huge gap with a small stream running through it. As he and the others entered the bottom of the stone tower, Kludd could see that the inside was hollow. Inside were stalagites of all sizes, and Pure One banners lined the walls. As the owls began to turned upwards, the vertical cavern opened up into a huge cave. The ceiling was covered with jagged stalagtites, with sleeping bats nestled in between. The "floor" was a flattened platform of granite, large enough for all the owls to land upon. They faced a large hole in wall they had ssen from before outside, between which a strange design had been built.

It was an arch carved from wood, decorated with red banners and lit torches. Within it was a thick ring, made from twisted branches and elephant tusks. The ring was attached to a rock carved to look like an owl's open talons. And in the center of it all, was a large, dark figure, an owl from the looks of it. The thin slivers of sunlight silohetted him, casting his shadow across the floor of the cave. His back was turned to them, and he was hunched over. This seemed more like a fat vulture than an owl. But the huge apparatus he was perched on meant he was very, very important. Kludd was getting scared. This _had_ to be the Lord High Tyto that Nyra had kept talking about. This was...Metalbeak. Kludd began to wilt, but held his ground. In front of him, Nyra, Styker and Wortmore, as well as Jatt and Jutt behind him, lowered their heads submissively. Kludd and the other young Tytos were soon to follow. In the protective shadow of her brother, Eglantine was gently nudged by Jatt's wing to do the same.

Nyra lifted up into the air and settled down on a lower perch by her mate. "My lord."

"Hmm?" the giant owl turned his head slightly.

"Our work at St. Aegolius is nearly done," Nyra spoke softly, but with seriousness in her tone. "The last of the flecks are on their way, and I've brought you an offering with beating hearts." She turned her own head to face the younger owls. "Your new soldiers; tested and pure. One in particular, shows exceptional promise." She gestured to Kludd, who now wilted at his newfound attention.

The beastly owl scoffed. "I'll be the judge of that." His voice was low and gruff, but metallic at the same time. He turned around fully to face the young Barn Owl. "You, soldier. Step forward now."

The young owl could now see his new leader in full form. He was a Sooty Owl, an extremely large Sooty Owl, actually taller than Nyra. His plumage was a deep black, but became an ashy gray down by his legs, which sported the deadliest-looking battle claws Kludd had ever seen. Behind the high Tyto's mask, were dark soleless eyes that bore right through him. The right eye was black, while the other was a milky gray that seemed to follow Kludd around. But the most frightening feature was his mask: It was not unlike that of the Pure Ones' battle helmets, but it had the luster of silver, with small engravings on it. In the center, was a long, pointy protrusion that resembled an owl's upper beak, and it even looked like it had been smelted in place. Kludd, with his feathers tight against his body, slowly walked closer in the High Tyto's shadow, quivering.

"Yes, you're right to be afraid in my presence," the High Tyto said, half amused, but toic. "What is your name?"

Kludd felt his name escape his beak, but it sounded more like a squeak mixed with a whisper. "Kludd."

"Speak up!" the High Tyto snapped sternly, making Kludd flinch.

"Kludd! My name is Kludd," he managed to stand up straighter and nearly shouted.

"There, that's better," said the High Tyto. "Remember, weakness is for the lower species, _never. for. us._ Do you know why, Kludd?"

Kludd paused. He had thought it over, then remembered what every Pure One around him had said. The words came out naturally for him, his voice like that of a disciplined soldier, a true Pure One; "Because we...are...Tytos."

Metalbeak chuckled with plesaure. This one would prove useful. Behind Kludd, Eglantine bgan to wimper with fright. She didn't understand much of what was going on, but she knew this was bad, and that Kludd was in on it. All she could do, was wait and hope she would see Soren again.

* * *

><p>Far away, at the borders of Ambala and Tyto, the Band had found a large tree with a warm and spacious hollow. Soren and Gylfie were relieved to be finally able to rest, and get a break from Digger's corny owl jokes. As Mrs. Plithiver went to work at eating up all of the annoying grubs and maggots that littered the hollow floor, Twilight had gone out to hunt. When he returned, he had brought back a strange tree-dwelling creature called a sugar glider. He told them it used the membranes of skin between its legs to glide from tree to tree like a flying squirrel. It tasted sweet, and Soren had to admit that he had never been so weel fed. They all praised Twilight for his exceptional hunting skills. As they dozed off to sleep, he made a soft melody on his lute that had put them right out.<p>

* * *

><p>"By then, Lord Arrin had gathered his army of hagsfiends to Beyond the Beyond, at the Sacred Ring of the seven volcanoes, ready to steal the all-powerful Ember of Hoole, as it came to be known later on, from molten center of Dunmore. Yet Queen Siv and her own army of noble owls were ready to face them. However the ensueing battle soon turned in Lord Arrin's favor, for the hagsfiends' blazing yellow eyes were enough to make the owls go yeep. But help had arrived in the form of the Dire Wolves of the MacDuncan clan. Their bright green eyes brought terror to the hagsfiends, and they either fled or went yeep themselves. And while all this happened, Hoole, who could see through Dunmore as if it were glass, plunged straight into the volcano, and plucked the Ember from its fiery matrix. From then on, there was no denying his title as king, and peace was restored at last."<p>

"Wonderful, Soren. Flawless," Mrs. P. said as Soren finished reciting one of the legends to Digger and Gylfie.

"I always love hearing the legends," said Digger.

"Thanks. That one's never been my favorite, though." Suddely, Soren cocked his head, first one way, then the other.

"What is it, Soren?" Digger asked.

"Do you hear something?" Twilight flew down and landed on a thin branch that creaked under his weight.

"Hush!" Soren said.

They all fell silent and watched as the Barn Owl tipped, cocked, and pivoted his head in a series of small movements. And, finaly, Soren heard something. "There's a trickle. I hear it. It's not a lot of water, but I can hear that it begins in reeds and then starts to slide over stones. Let's go. I'll lead."

It was one of the first few times anyone except Twilight had flown in the point position.

As Soren flew, he kept angling his head so his that his two uneven ears could precisely locate the source of water. Within a few minutes, they had found a trickle and that trickle turned into a stream, a stream full of the music of gently tumbling water. Then by dawn that stream had become a river - the River of Hoole.

"A masterful job at triangulation," Gylfie cried. "Simply masterful, Soren. You're a premiere navigator."

"What's she saying?" Digger asked.

"She's saying that Soren got us here. Big words, little owl." But it was evident that Twilight was clearly impressed.

"So now what do we do?" Digger asked again.

"Follow the river to the sea of Hoolemere," Twilight said. "Come on. We still have a few hours until First Light."


	24. The Mirror Lakes

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>The following night, the Band had arrived in The Beaks. It was a barren, but peaceful place; calm skies, gentle wind, and plenty of food. The Beaks was best known for the sparse spires of rock that jutted out from its rolling hills, usually in pairs, resembling giant bird beaks, hence the name.<p>

They needed time to rest, unwind. Twilight said that not far off, was a place so lovely. Endless plump voles scampered about, the skies were always clear, and tree hollows in which moss as spft as down grew. Why, it sounded irresistable. And it was! And now Mrs. Plithiver was becoming frantic about this resplendent place. It was perfectly clear that the owls would be content to stay here forever.

But life was too easy in this region on the edge of The Beaks, which was called the Mirror Lakes. She knew it wasn't good for them and beneath the gleaming surfaces of the lakes, within the quiet verdant beauty of this place, she sensed something dangerous. She could have just swatted Twilight and his damned big mouth. The four owls seemed to have forgotten their mission of finding the Guardians of Ga'Hoole entirely. Shortly after they had turned to fly in the direction of the Mirror Lakes, they began to encounter the wonderful rolling drafts of air that curled up from the rippled lanscape below and provided them with matchless flying. The sensation was sublime as they gently floated over the sculptured air currents without having to waggle a wing. The rhythm was mesmerizing and then, shortly before dawn, sparkling below between the ripples of the land, were several still lakes, so clear, so clear, so glistening that they reflected every single star and cloud in the sky.

The Mirror Lakes were like an oasis in the otherwise barren landscape of The Beaks. The owls had chosen trees near the ake that had perfect-sized hollows, all cushioned with the loveliest of mosses.

"It's simply dreamy here," Gylfie said for what was perhaps the hundredth time. And that, precisely, was the problem. It was dreamy. Not just dreamy - but a dream. It didn't seem real with its plentiful game so easy to hunt, and the rolling drafts were so tempting that, against Mrs. P.'s orders, the owls had begun to take playful fights in broad daylight. But perhaps worst of all were the tranquil gleaming lakes themselves. These owls had never been around such clear water. There was no silt, no mud, no muck and bits swirling about in it. So they could see their reflection perfectly. Not one of these owls, except for Twilight, had ever seen his so clearly. And when they weren't gazing at their reflections, they were flying over the lakes, marveling at their fabulous flight maneuvers and pitching. Twilight was of coarse, the worst of all because of his boasting to begin with. Mrs. Plithiver could hear him out there now, hooting about his beauty, his muscular physique, the fluffiness of his feathers, while he tumbled over and under a roll of air.

"Ha ha! Watch as I bounce off this cloud!" he bellowed.

But as Mrs. Plithiver could sense, the clouds were too high that day, and Twilight was flying too low to reach them as he admired himself in the Mirror Lakes below. In actuality, Twilight was flying off the reflections of clouds that quivered on the glasslike surface of the lake. And that, Mrs. Plithiver concluded, was the heartof the problem with all the owls. They were mistaking the world of image and reflection for reality. The Mirror Lakes had transfixed them. And their transfixed state had they forgotten all they had fought for and fought against. Had they once spoken of the Great Tree of Ha'Hoole or its noble owls since they had arrived at this cursed place? Had they ever mentioned the evil of the Pure Ones? Had Soren even once thought of his dear family since he was snatched from his hollow? And what about Eglantine? Did he ever think of her and what might have pecome of his poor sister?

This was a very strange place. It was not just the Mirror Lakes and the thick soft moss and the perfect tree hollows and the plentiful game. Suddenly Mrs. Plithiver realized that in the rest of the kingdoms they had flown through it was becoming early winter, but here it was summer, full summer. She could smell it. The leaves were still green, the grass supple, the earth warm. But it was poisonous! They had to get out of here. This place was as dangerous as St. Aggie's.

"Come back here this instant! All of you!" It was the closest a hissing a snake ever got to a snarl.

Soren jerked his head to his nest-maid's position, startled.

"Mrs. P., what in Glaux's name?"

"I'll Glaux you!" she hissed.

Soren gaped. He had never heard Mrs. P. speak so sternly to him. It was like venom curling into the air. The other owls alighted next to Soren, a deep hush having already falling upon them.

"What's wrong, mrs. P.?" soren asked in a trembling voice.

"What's wrong? Look at me. Stop looking at yourselves in the lake this instant. I'll tell you what's wrong. You are a disgrace to your families."

"I have no family if you'll recall, Mrs. P." Twilight yawned.

"Worse then! You are a disgrace to your species. The Great Gray Owls."

This really took Twilight aback. "My species?"

"Yes, indeed. All of you are, for the matter. You have all grown fat, lazy, and vain, the lot of you. Why...why," Mrs. Plithiver stammered.

Soren felt something really bad was coming.

"You're nothing but a bunch of wet poopers!" With that, there was a raucous outburst from a branch overhanging where they stood at the lake's edge, on which a dozen or so seagulls, and a few songbirds had alighted. Their harsh laughter ricocheted off the lake and the reflection of the owls on its surface quivered and then seemed to shatter.

"We're getting out of here NOW!" Mrs. Plithiver said in a near roar for a snake. The owls felt their gizzards twist and lurch.

"Twlight, we will take point."

"Yes ma'am," the Great Gray mumbled as Mrs. P. slithered into his lute.

Of all the owls, Twilight had been the most transfixed by Mrs. P.'s outburst. And if Twilight was to fly point, as he usually did, Mrs. P. felt she was going to have to be there to keep him on coarse. Not another word was spoken as the Band flew of into the sunset, hopefully leading them to the Sew of Hoolemere.

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><p><strong>AN: Well, glad that's out of the way. This chapter was inspired by a chapter of the 2nd book, The Journey. If you've read it, you'll know that the text above is more or less copied from the book. Like I said, I would be taking a lot of material from the Ga'Hoole book series, but only for the purpose of making such a good fanfic. Hopefully Katheryn Lasky won't sue. Anyway, please review.<strong>


	25. Proper Guidance

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>It was mid-afternoon, and with the Mirror Lakes behind them, the Band pressed on northward. Not one of them had spoken a word since they continued their journey, even though Mrs. Plithiver's angry mood had died down. Around them, the tall rock formations for which The Beaks got its name, had become smaller and more jagged. They were near the shoreline for what would be the next part of the journey; finding the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole in the Sea of Hoolemere.<p>

Soren was nervous about reaching the sea. He knew owls weren't seabirds, or waterfowl. How easily could they make it across the sea intact? He'd heard stories of birds getting caught in vicious oceanic stroms, and then swallowed up by the crashing waves. What were the odds of one of his friends, or even himself, meeting such an unfortunate fate? However those thoughts went away when Soren suddenly picked up the sound of wingflaps behind him.

With his numerous neck vertebrae and strong muscles, he angle his head around to look over his left shoulder. The flapping was coming from a medium-sized, dark-feathered bird. Its primaries were ragged and its plumage unkempt. Its eyes were pitch black with a glossy glint. And its beak was stout but long. At first, Soren couldn't recognize it, but when this newcomer opened its beak and made a low "_caaaw_", it was now unmistakable; a crow.

"You know, I think that crow's been following us," Soren said in an uneasy voice.

"Yes, I've had my eye on him for a while," Twilight whispered calmly. Soren was surprised by Twilight's nonchalance. This was the worst thing that could befall any owl in the daytime. Crows, like many prey items on an owl's diet, had come to greatly detest the nocturnal birds. So out of retaliation, and an unpleasent sense of humor, crows would harass owls whenever they caught them out in broad daylight, so as to drive them out of their territory. And now, at least twelve crows had surronded the Band on all sides.

Digger gulped. "You know what an owl says when he's been pecked by a crow?"

Twilight scoffed. "Really Digger, must you...?"

"OW!" Gylfie suddenly yelped, as one of the crows drove its spike-shaped bill into her back, making her lurch in flight.

"Yeah, that's right," Digger said with utter ignorance. "OW!" he suddenly cried out as he was suddenly jabbed by a crow as well.

By now the crows had started flying in between the Band, squaking and snapping at them like hungry chicks. This was getting annoying. If the Band was thrown off coarse they would not be able to get to the sea until nightfall. But they had to hurry, and brave through this minor bump in the road. but soon the situation became worse, when the sound of tugged strings could be heard. Twilight's lute had had been snatched right out of his talons. The Great Gray was now fuming as he watched the mischievious crows fly off with his instrument, cackling with accomplishment.

"Twilight!" Soren exclaimed. "Your lute!"

"Aw, let 'em have it!" Digger said with pure jubilance. "Good riddance! Wait a minute...oh no!"

"Oh yes!" Twilight shot back, knowing what was to come.

"Mrs. P.!" the other three owls yelled out at once. The had nearly forgotten about her in all the comotion. Now they watched as she was helplessly carried away by the motley crew of birds off to who knows where.

The Band now flew as fast as they could. The crows were still thankfully in sight, weaving through the jutting rocks of The Beaks. The crow carrying the lute was now in the center of the mob, closely guarded by his friends. They turned downward over what seemed to be a lake. The owls continued pursuit, making sure the lute did not leave their field of vision. Luckily, they were now gaining on them, and they would soon rescue their precious cargo.

Just as Twilight tried to reach out for it, the crow dropped the lute in middair, only for it to be caught by another one. Soren was nearly upon him. He could see Mrs. Plithiver sticking her head out the hollow instrument, apparently laughing. This whole ride must have been fun for her. But none of that mattered now. As Soren reached out for her, the lute was dropped again, and Mrs. P. could once again be seen headed for Earth. The young Barn Owl performed a power dive for his nest made. But just as quickly, another crow caught it again, this time laughing out in a series of caws and squacks.

"They're too fast!" Soren called to Twilight.

"I'll get you closer! We're going to lock talons!"

"Wait, what?"

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing!" Twilight gripped the younger owl's talons with his. Soren allowed his body to go limp as Twilight carried him along as fast as he could, the crows far ahead of him.

"Have you done this before?" Soren half yelled, worried for his physical being.

"No, but I've always wanted to try it!" Twilight yelled smugly. "Hold on!" The immese owl backflipped in middair and then released his grip, the inertia sending Soren's body zooming ahead like a comet. He moved so fast he could feel his eyes tearing as he shot shraight towards the crows, who appeared to have landed on a great pillar of rock that stood in the middle of the lake. the crow holding Mrs. P. and the lute, who was now hovering, completely let go of his load, and as the instrument fell, Soren managed to catch it by the strings just as he skidded to a stop on the top of the stone tower. As the rest of the Band landed, the crows took of into flight and perched on an arch made from old, rusted metal. They suddenly seemed docile, and not willing to bother the owls any longer.

"Mrs. P., are you okay?" Soren asked as she elderly snake clumsily slithered out of the lute.

"Quite a ride," she responded, obviously dizzy, but otherwise fine. "Let's do that again."

As Gylfie and Digger churred to themselves, Twilight looked down to Soren, both humbled and impressed. "Owl. You surely can fly."

"Thank you, Twilight," Soren said meekley.

"Well, here we are," Looking throught the arch, they could all see it; the Sea of Hoolemere. It stretched out for as far as they could see, the setting sun just over the horizon. It cast bright reflections on the water's surface, making it shimmer with radiance. This was it. Beyond this was the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole, and the noble Guardians. Their journey had now come full circle.

"The Sea of Hoolemere," Soren finally said with awe.

"It's so...big," Gylfie mumbled, astounded by the sight in front of her.

"Yeah it's a right big puddle there," Digger said to Mrs. Plithiver, clearly unaware of the magnitude of what he was seeing.

"Hmm, I don't know," Twilight said to Soren. "You really think the Guardians are out there?"

"They have to be," Soren replied with the most determined tone anyone had ever heard.

"The Band!" an old voice suddenly cried out, making the owls jump in surprise.

"Who's there?" Twilight demanded. The voice's owner suddenly appeared out from behind the rocks. The animal's body was stout with thick, stubby legs, each having five claws at the end. The body was covered with brown fur and hundreds of short quills. Its snout was long and thin, perfect for eating the ants that were apart of his diet; he was an echidna. A very old echidna from the sound of it. Echidnas had the reputation of being the only mammal, apart from the platypus, that laid eggs rather than give birth to live young. It was this quality, that had earned them respect amoungst the bird world. And now this echidna was rapidly aproaching the posse of young owls.

"Ah, t'was foretold that trespassers would land on my shore," he said in a surprisingly calm tone that betrayed his body language.

"look, we mean you no harm," Soren said nervously, back up a few steps as the echidna walked straight up to him.

"Yes, t'was foretold as well."

"We've flown a long way," Gylfie jumped in, trying to explain themselves to this old animal.

"Oh, so foretold," the echidna said, his mood still nonchalant.

"And we're very tired," said Digger, walking up to the short mammal.

"Foretold. I know all," he continued, before pointing to Soren. "Now state your desire, owl."

From here, Soren could see something that was very peculiar about this creature. His face was smeared with a bright blue substance, and the tips of his spines were as well, several of which had several rings on them. In his left front paw was a small wooden staff, decorated with broken off spines that rattled at the sligthest movement.

"Wait," Gylfie suddenly piped. "If you really know all, then how come you don't know that?"

The echidna scoffed. "T'was foretold there would be one, who doubts."

Gylfie sighed to herself. "Is anyone else having trouble with this?"

"Yes, I kind of am," Digger said in his usual jittery manner.

The thought had suddenly hit Soren like an incoming rock. Part of the legend of Ga'Hoole clearly stated, that the only one who knew how to get to the Island of Hoole, where the Great Tree grew, was an all-knowing echidna shaman, who dwelled on the shoreline.

"Wait!" he exclaimed. "You're an echidna!"

"I am _the_ echidna," the shaman corrected. "And it was foretold that you would need help getting here. That's why my crows led you here, so that you could continue the next part of you journey. I have been here waiting for you for quite some time now."

"I don't understand."

"I am apart of the Order of Hoole," the echidna began. "Since the first king of the Southern Kingdom owls, Hoole, plucked his sacred ember from the fiery abyss of Dunmore, many creatures great and small, have idolized him. Though we knew none of us would equal the greatness of him or his Guardians, we vowed to help them from afar."

"But what does that have to do with us?"

"In his early years of fatherhood, Hoole returned the Ember, which is now named after him, back to the Beyond. As he tossed the Ember of Hoole into the fires of H'rathghar, he knew evil would return long after his death. He had forseen in the flames, for Hoole had firesight. Despite the extinction of the hagsfiends, Hoole feared their wicked legacy would appear in the form of other animals, including owls. Owls such as the Pure Ones. Long after Hoole's passing, a prophecy was made stating five travelers would arrive at this very spot, seeking the Guardians. The historical records and legends have never given the exact location of Ga'Hoole, and we alone posess the knowledge. Being the strongest, bravest, and wisest of my generation, I was selected to keep watch under this metal arch, and have waited here for as long as I can remember."

"Well that's interesting and all," Twilight said. "But what of these other members from this order of yours?"

"There are few of us left. Those that remain are spread throughout the Southern Kingdoms."

"Well anyway, my Da said your spines would guide us." Soren said.

"And they will. Now, to reach the tree, keep between the Whale's Fin and the Eye of Glaux. Never go outside those stars." The echidna gestured up to the already appearing constellations, and as he did, the quills on his staff seemed to raise and point in the same direction. "Now go, all of you!"

The Band prepared to take off, but suddenly felt their wings droop to their sides. Could they make the rest of this journey? Could they find the Guardians and stop the Pure Ones? Were _they_ the ones of whom this prophecy spoke of? Perhaps not.

"Hmm, t'was foretold that the Band would hesitate...," the echidna mumbled to himself, scratching his chin, before perking back up. "But that in time, would learn to become a family! And a family needs all of its members to play their parts!" he exclaimed cheerily, then walked up to Twilight. "The warrior,"

"A _poet_ warrior, thank you."

"Fine," the old mammal grumbled. "Strong and noble." He loooked over to Digger. "The tracker; sturdy and faithful." Digger smiled. "The navigator; who doubts," the shama said sharply to Gylfie, who looked away with a _hmmph_. It was now Soren's turn. "The leader; who's gizzard is strong." He then looked down to Mrs. Plithiver, who waited anxiously. "And finally, of coarse, the heart."

If snakes could blush, Mrs. P. would have.

"Wait. Are you a snake?"

"Oh, yes I am," Mrs. P. said innocently.

The echidna mumbled something to himself before giving the Band space and continuing his speech; "You have all come this far, each protecting the other. So go, look to the sky, and fly," he said comfortingly.

Soren knew he was right. _We can do this_. he thought. "Allright. Let's go then." The band spread their wings, and were now flying straight for the sunset. From here, it was the Guardians or bust, and they were going to do this, no matter what. But just before they were out of earshot, they heard the echidna call to them:

"Remember; when your wings are weak, your spirits down, and you've flown as far as you can, your halfway their!"

"What did he say?" Gylfie asked.

"We're halfway there!" Digger cheered, and before then knew it, the land was far behind them.

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><p><strong>AN: well, another one down. The Band has now reached its checkpoint in their journey. next chapter, the strom and the Great Tree. Please review**


	26. Finally

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>"We're lost!" Gylfie yelled over the wind. And indeed they were. By the time the band had flown out into the sea, they were met with a huge blizzard, through which they could barely see ahead. Behind was thick with swirling snow, below was a dense fog that not even a treetop could poke through, and off to windward, sheets of frigid air seemed to tumble from somewhere.<p>

"We have to find the island!" Twilight yelled, his normally booming voice humbled by the roar of the wind.

They had been flying hard and fast for a while now. But with each stroke of his wings, Soren felt surer of their course, and his gizzard began to tremble with excitement. And he knew that somehow, the closer they got to the Great Tree, the further he was From St. Aegolius. Far away from the evil Metalbeak, and his malicious queen, Nyra. Far away from the descpicable Long-Eared Owl brothers, Jatt and Jutt, and especially far away from those vicious bats. He never wanted to go back there, but if it meant rescuing Kludd, if nobody else could, so be it.

"We're in the Mists of Ga'Hoole," Soren reassured his friends. "The tree must be on the other side; I can feel it in my gizzard!"

"Your gizzard?" Digger scoffed loudly. "Does anyone else have any more _solid_ information about where we're going?" The Burrowing Owl was probably having the most trouble flying through the storm, possibly more so than Gylfie.

"Digger! Why are you flying like that?" Twilight called from up above.

"Like what? You know how I fly!" Digger flipped his head around to look at the Great Gray.

"It's not that!"

"Digger! Your wings!" Gylfie gasped.

"What about 'em?" Digger looked behind to see that his wings and feathers were being rapidly covered with frost and ice crystals. He gasped. This was the abosolute worst thing that could happen to any bird in cold weather. One couldn't fly with frozen wings, let alone survive the sea below. the Burrowing Owl gulped. "Well uh, I think...goodbye," he said, before suddenly plummeting downward.

"Digger!" the Band yelled. Soren folded his wings inward and proceeded to dive after his friend towards the water's surface. Gylfie, about to be blow away by a sudden gust of wind, was quickly rescued by Twilight and stuffed into his lute with Mrs. Plithiver.

Soren managed to catch the air with his wings just as he reached the surface of the Sea of Hoolemere. The water was such a deep blue that it was almost black. A briney foam had formed as the choppy waves crashed together, as if they were trying to reach out and grab the young Barn Owl. Worst of all, there was absolutely no sign of Digger. Both Soren's gizzard and heart sank. The Band had just lost one member. He had failed to save his new friend. And what would he tell Twilight?

_It's all my fault. I wasn't fast enough. _Soren thought to himself. But just as he was about to give up and fly back to the others, two giant Snowy Owls suddenly appeared from behind a wave. Soren was immediatley shocked back to his senses, his beak hanging open in amazement. Both the Snowies were so white that by comparison the mist seemed gray. They had ornate, golden helmets covering their faces, and their talons were sheathed in the most brilliant set of battle claws he had ever seen, and in the cluthces of one of them, was Digger, completely intact.

The larger owl stopped to hover in front of Soren, a calm smile on her face.

"Can you fly with me?" she asked in a sweet, motherly voice.

"Yeah, there are five of us," was all Soren could say.

"Yes, we know," the Snowy churred, and wheeled around in flight with Soren following suit.

Before long, Soren had regrouped with Twilight, who was now following the two Snowy Owls out of the storm. The sudden shift in light made their eyes squint as the fog opened up to reveal the late afternoon sky. The owls flew past what looked like a small Ga'Hoole tree, growing out of a small pile of rocks that jutted out from the sea. Within the branches, two owls banged on a large gong, the noise from which reverbirated off everyone's bodies. Soren looked in amazement as they headed for what looked like a hugh metal arch, apparently the entrance to huge, natural stone wall. Upon passing through, Soren was greeted with a sight that he wold forever remember: A large, barren island, and taking up its space, was a tree that had to be several miles tall; the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole.

As well as countless hollows, its immense trunk was lined with hollows as well as artificial walkways and platforms, woven from sticks and reeds. As they landed on one of them, near one of its huge roots, Soren took in the sight around him. There were hundreds, mabye thousands of owls of all kinds. From Tyto owls to Burrowing Owls, from Pygmy Owls to Elf Owls, from Screech Owls to Great Horned Owls, and from Snowy Owls to Great Gray Owls, the list went on. They were all either in flight, or walking around on the wood bridges.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" the male Snowy Owl from before said. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Boron, and this my mate, Barran."

"The king and queen of Ga'Hoole," Twilight whispered.

"Yes, my dears," Barran said softly. "But we prefer teachers, or rybs. Anyway, welcome to the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole."

"Thank both, very much," Soren said, bowing his head lightly. "But before we get settled in or anything, there's something we need to talk about."

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><p><strong>So there, finally, the Band has reached the Great Tree. Next chapter, the parliment scene. Please review.<strong>


	27. A Parliment of Owls

**Sorry it took so long for me to publish this next chapter. I had already begun to start another story. By the way, if some are confused as to why I have depicted Boron as being smaller than Barran, it is simply for scientific accuracy; in the world of owl, as well as all birds of prey, the female is the larger of the pair. It is theorized that females are like this because they must spend more time with their chicks and eggs, and defend them from predators. With that out of the way, enjoy the new chapter. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>Soren and Gylfie patiently stood outside of a hollow called the parliment. They were waiting to be admitted for their meeting with Boron and Barran.<p>

"Very important business inside, young'uns," an armor-clad guard spoke in the gruff tone of a Great Horned Owl.

"We won't take long," Gylfie said.

_I hope not,_ thought Soren. He was frightened. Gylfie had decided that he should be the one to speak.

Another owl stuck her head out. "You can come in now. But be quiet and wait you turn." She indicated to a branch where they were to wait. Soren looked about. It was indeed a rather large hollow, at least eight times larger than his home back in Tyto. There were candles, of coarse, and a long white branch, a birch, bent into a half circle. It was on this white branch that the owls of the parliment, no more than a dozen, perched. He recognized the two Snowy Owls in the center as Boron and Barran. Closest to their right was an elderly Spotted Owl, and far to the left, a Great Horned Owl of an unusual ruddy color with even more unusual blackened talons. There was also an ancient and decrepit, red-phased Whiskered Screech Owl, who appeared to have the worst case of feather fletch Soren had ever seen. Not that he had seen all that many. The Whiskered Screech had a long, bristly beard. One of his eyes seemed stuck in a permanent squint, and his beak had a notch in it. Just as he took in all these details in, the old owl swung his head about and fixed Soren in his squinted gaze. Soren thought his gizzard was going to drop right out of him.

"So, Elvan," Boron addressed another owl to his far left, a Barn. "It is your notion that we need to have a search-and-rescue attachment chaw on the colliering missions?"

"Not at all, my king. I think that they are only necessary when we are in areas near battle zones. So often the parents are off fighting. In normal circumstances, the parents are there if a fire breaks out, but tonight, for instance, we had to pick up that little Pygmy and a Northern Saw-whet. We got them back, but it taxed our chaw, believe me - carrying coals and injured owlets. Can't exactly drop them in the coal bucket. And I don't even like to think of the ones we might have missed and left behind."

The old Whiskered Screech raised his left foot, which to Soren's shock, was missing a talon.

"Yes, Ezylryb?" Boron nodded to the owl.

"Question for Bubo," the old bird's voice was a low growl. "You think that this fire was natural or more trouble with the rogue raids?"

"No tellin', sir. The rogues make good targets, and it wouldn't be the first time raiding one caused a fire," the ruddy Great Horned answered.

"Hmmm," the Whiskered Screech replied, and then scratched his head with the second of the three remaining talons of one foot.

"Next order of business," Boron said. "Something about starvation in Ambala?"

_Ambala!_ Soren and Gylfie looked at each other. They remembered that Hortense, or Mist as she now addressed herself, said that the Pure Ones had raided that owl kingdom for eggs, to enlarge their army of moonblinked owlet slaves and Tyto soldiers.

"Yes," an old Great Gray, the largest owl present, was speaking now. "The egg production is down, probably caused by a blight on the rodent population. Simply not enough food."

Soren and gylfie exchanged looks. It was not just the rodent population. It was the Pure One egg snatchers. This was information they could offer. This might be the oppurtunity they needed to tell Boron and Barran.

"We'll look into it," Boron said. "And now, I believe that some of our new arrivals have requested to speak with us."

_Speak with us!_ What was he talking about? Soren was not prepared to talk in front of all these owls.

"Now who wants to go first?"

Soren Gylfie looked at each other nervously.

"Up here, young'uns." There was a perch in the middle of the half circle to which Boron nodded.

"Well, uh... my name is Soren," the young Barn Owl began. "I'm from the Forest of Tyto. I er..." After nearly two hours, the young owls were watching the Guardians in front of them discuss the story amoungst themselves. They had told them nearly everything; the Pure Ones the snatching, the moonblinking, the bats, the flecks, all of it.

The chorus of voices was suddenly interrupted by the light chuckle of the Great Gray.

"Does Lord Allomere feel otherwise?" the old Spotted Owl asked.

"Oh, good Glaux," the owl said with a sigh. "Boron, your majesty, if I'm to understand this correctly; Metalbeak is alive and well, he is building a slave army of moonblinked owlets, and is apparently planning to conquer the owl world with magical pellet _debris._" There was no seriousness in his voice. "Without intending any disrespect and _particularly_ to our little freinds, who have obviously been through so much, but such a story simply stretches plausibility, too far." Soren felt his gizzard sink. This owl, Allomere, a Guardian of Ga'Hoole, did not believe his story. He was supposed listen and help owls with a problem, not blow them off, not matter how rediculous their tale may sound! Just as he was about to speak up, he heard the Whiskered Screech Owl laugh to himself, which, in all honesty, sounded more like he was choking on a pellet.

"Does that notion strike Ezylryb, as amuzing?"

"What cheek," Ezylryb huffed. "What's amuzing to me is that you would cover yourself by besmritching these fliers." Soren was surprised. This owl, as unpleasant as he looked, was now defending their seemingly impossible story.

"Hmm, perhaps my good fellow Ezylryb wishes for us to race back to war?" Allomere asked sarcastically, making the smaller owl _hmmph._ "Perahps he'd write a nice poem about it from his hollow; while the rest of us, well - the rest of us have our talons to form weapons. But I say caution, when the losses could be so many."

At this, Ezylryb took off from his perch and now stood right in front of Allomere in an attack position, who was now returning the same stance. "I would _never_ counsel rushing blindly into war. But for a cause such as the one the boy describes, for a violation of the peace so blatant, so powerful, of coarse I'd fight! What other course to take?" the old Screech now had his feather puffed up, making himself look twice his size. "And if you think I'm a coward, or I'd simply urge others on, I'll fight you right now! Boron, you judge the winner."

Boron repeatedly banged a small gavel on a sound block with his right talon. "Enough! Midley owls, we are trying to seek the truth!"

Without further hesitation, Soren finally spoke up. "The truth? I _told_ you the truth; the Pure Ones exist. They've kidnapped me and dozens of owlest from our hollows. They want to enslave us all and rule our world without pity." He sighed. "Yes, the only proof I have are my words. But words were the only proof I had that _you_ were real. Still I believed."

All the owls frowned with sympathy and regret. Ezylryb then looked over to Boron. "And you would argue with that?"

"No, I will not argue with that."

"Your majesty," Allomere cut in. "My search-and-rescue chaw is scheduled to leave on a routine survey during the next full moon. Perhaps we could -"

"No," the king interrupted. "You shall leave immediately. Take your best owls with you Allomere, and be thourough." And with that, Boron slammed his gavel down on his sound block, thus making his order official, and ending the meeting.


	28. Settling In

**Sorry for taking so long with _this_ chapter as well. The stress of school and a minor illness have kept me away from the computor for days on end. With that water under the bridge, enjoy the fanfic.**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>"We did it, Soren. We're here," Gylfie said to the Barn Owl with awe as they exited the Parliment hollow, gazing at the scenery once more. And she was right, for they had indeed made it to Ga'Hoole. After all they gone through, they were finally safe, and their mission had come full-circle. Now all they had to do, was adapt the lifestyle of these noble owls, and, with any luck, join them as Guardians of Ga'Hoole.<p>

"Yeah, I guess we did," Soren responded. He looked to the Great Gate to see three fully-armed owls fly off seaward. "I just hope Allomere finds the owlets." Even tough they had explained everything they knew, there was little the two young owls could do to prepare the Guardians for the savagery and brutality of the Pure Ones. But they had faced them before, and if they triumphed over them once, they could certainly triumph again.

Just then, the grizzled old Whiskered screech Owl had landed on a branch close to the two best friends, watched as Allomere departed, and sighed. "Oh, to be a young owl with a taste for adventure, arriving in the tree for the first time. Well done to hold your own in there, young'uns." He turned to look at them, his squinted eye fixed on Soren. "Some more nice, strong gizzards; the tree always needs them." With that, the old bird took off, and dissapeared withing the vastness of the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole.

"He is one strange owl," Soren muttered.

"I think he might be missing a few talons," said Gylfie.

"And a good bath. Gross old owl," a young, feminine voice said from behind. Soren and Gylfie turned around to see a female Spotted Owl, around their age, who had appeared behind them. "You'll want to stay out of _his_ chaw if you ask me."

"Chaw?"

The Spotted Owl sighed. "I'll tell you on the way to dinner. You're already late." She then spread her wings and began to glide down to the lower level of the tree, with Soren and Gylfie following suite. Looking down, they could see a maze of wooden bridges, connected from tree limb to tree limb. Candles and torches lined the edges, and around them, owls could be seen either flying or walking in vast quantities. He wouldn't be surprised if half of the world's owls were in this single tree.

The three owls landed on a wooden bridge, and began to weave through the labirynth of other owls walking this way and that. The place was quite decorated. Lit candles, a special trinkets, and shiny ornaments could be seen everywhere. On their right, was what looked like a choir of owls, singing some kind of song that mostly consisted of hoots.

"Now, Matron's instructed me to give you a proper run-down on how we do things here, during your basic training," the Short-Eared Owl piped up as she began walking down the bridge ahead.

"Basic training?"

"You can't just become a Guradian overday. It takes years, and years. Only our absolute best, get the chance to-"

"Wait. Who are you?" Gylfie suddenly asked.

"Are you going to keep interrupting me?" the Spotted Owl turned around, speaking in a rather impolite tone, before walking again. "Now, if however unlikely, that to _do_ have special talent, you will be tapped or selected for a specialized chaw, or squadron. There's navigation, healing, search-and-rescue, blacksmithing, weather interpretation, colliering; I expect to be placed in the navigation chaw myself."

Gylfie raised her brow. This Spotted Owl probably had to learn a few things about humility. She also seemed a bit judgmental, having said that she and Soren probably _didn't_ have a special skill. Even the way she moved around was a bit stuck-up; instead of the hunched over posture, and slow stride that other owls were accustomed to, she walked with a straight posture, her tail feathers held up, and took small, fast steps. She was a bit conceded, but appeared to be likeable nonetheless.

"Name's Otulissa by the way." she said.

"I'm Soren, and this is Gylfie."

"Believe your friends are over there," Otulissa gestured with a wing. In front of them was a collection of small platforms on which many owls were perched upon. Around them were clay bowls of the most dilectable food items Soren and Gylfie had ever seen. As they walked up, they could see things like mice, rats, voles, bats, worms, caterpillars, and what was most striking was that they appeared to be lightly "cooked", as he knew the term to be. And over to the left, was Twilight, Digger, Mrs. Plithiver, and several other owls.

The two friends hopped up to meet their friends. Digger, hungry as always, had his face buried deep into a clay bowl of stuffed caterpillars. Twilight and Mrs. P., having morals to uphold, sat by and gingerly sipped a strange liquid from small cups they held.

"Ah, there you are, my friends!" Twilight boomed. "Please, enjoy this wonderful food. The roasted bat is absolutely scrumpcious, and you must try this milkberry tea. They make it from the grapes that grow off the tree."

Soren took his place by Twilight and picked up a dead cooked mouse in his left talon. The fur was gone, and the tail had been chopped off. The skin was dark brown with a slighly crispy texture. It felt warm in his grasp. He gingerly put the meat in his beak and proceeded to jerk his head back, forcing it down his gullet. It was slightly dryer than what he was used to, but he liked having the warm food slide down his throat. As he felt his meal drop softly into his gizzard, he noticed Digger, who was still attacking his dish of grubs.

"How's the food, Digger?" Soren churred.

Digger raised his head up to look a the larger owl. His mouth was overstuffed with grubs. Despite that, he tried talking anyway, saying something that was literally impossible to understand. Twilight leaned in and spoke next.

"He said 'good', but he thinks it would go better with a little bit of _music_."

Dead grubs shot forward in the air as Digger spit his mouthful out in shock. "What?"

"And," Twilight looked around, "this looks like a decent crowd." He began to twiddle with the strings of his lute, and some of the owls around them looked over. They all smiled at the newcomers with warm, welcoming looks. The Band was going to fit in just fine.

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><p>As Twixt Time ended, and the First Light began, the Band had made their way up to their new hollow. It was spacious, with four expertly crafted nests for each of them, woven from the other Blind Snakes that inhabited the Great Tree. The temperature inside was cozy, and single candle kept it well-illuminated.<p>

Then, through the walls of the hollow, Soren thought he heard the mewling sound of a young owl crying and another voice saying, "There, there". Soren crept out of the hollow to find the sound coming from another one not far from where he was. Walking down to it, Soren could see that the hollow was in fact, an inner passageway that wound through the trunk. There were many of these passageways and it seemed to Soren that one might accidentally get lost in here. But he began to follow the sound. Soon, he came to another hollow. Like most, this hollow had both an inside and outside entrance so that a bird could either fly in or walk in from one of the many inner pathways through the trunk of the tree. He peeked in. He saw a Short-Eared Owl, Matron, or at least one of the Tree's many matrons who took care of its owls. She was bustling about, plucking down from her breast and tucking it around a smaller owl.

"Now, now, dear, we know you did your best," she said soothingly.

"But what will Mum and Da think?" the tiny thing sobbed. For a moment Soren's gizzard gave a lurch. _Could this little owl be Eglantine?_

"They will think that you were a brave little Pygmy Owl," Matron replied.

Soren sighed.

"What are you doing out there? Don't just stand around, come in and make yourself useful," Matron called. Soren came slowly into the hollow. The little owl was nearly as small as Gylfie; she was very fluffy, altough she smelled of soot and some of her feathers were singed.

"Now what did you say your name was, deary?" Matron bent over the Pygmy Owl.

"Primrose."

"Yes. Primrose here lost her nest."

"The whole tree," gulped the little owl.

"Yes, indeed. See, her parents had gone to help fight off several hostile owls along with their neighbors, and they had left her all safe and sound."

"I was supposed to be sitting on two new eggs. Mum was really only off hunting, not fighting. She was going to be right back."

"What happened?" Soren asked.

"A fie - forest fire. I didn't think it would reach our tree and when it did, well, I tried to save one of the eggs. But you know, I haven't been flying that long and, well, I just..." Here, she began to sob uncontrollably.

Another matron, this time a bunchy Barred Owl, poked her head in. "Any tea here?"

"Oh, yes, I think a cup of milkberry tea would be lovely."

"I dropped the egg. I don't deserve to live," Primrose emitted a long sound halfway between a whistle and a wail.

"Don't say that!" Soren exclaimed. "Of coarse you deserve to live. Every owl deserves to live. That's why we came here."

Matron stopped what she was doing and cocked her head, regarding the young Barn Owl._ Perhaps he was learning; just perhaps he was beginning to catch a glimmer of the true meaning of a noble deed._ She would leave him to comfort this little Pygmy Owl and send an extra cup of tea and some milkberry tart.

Soren stayed with Primrose for the rest of First Light. She was sometimes a bit feverish and would begin to mumble about the little brother she was sure she had killed. She had wanted to call him Osgood. Other times, she was quite lucid and would blink and say to Soren, "But what about Mum? What about Da? What will they think when they come home and find our forest burned, our tree gone? Will they look for me?"

And Soren simply did not know how to answer her, for, indeed, he had asked himself the same question so many times. As the minutes passed by, Primrose was sound asleep and Soren decided to make his way back to his own hollow. He meandered through the central hollow of the tree and more than once took a wrong turn that led down another passageway. While wandering down a particularly twisty one, he met up with an eldery Spotted Owl, the same one from the parliment.

"Ah, one of the new arrivals, part of the band that flew in from The Beaks, a place only for the strongest gizzards."

Soren blinked. _Now what did she mean by that?_

I'm Strix Struma, the navigation ryb. Hopefully if you're tapped, we'll get to know each other better. But right now it's getting late, I suggest you hasten to your hollow. and if you are very quiet, you shall here the music of Madame Plonk's harp. It is lovely to go to sleep to and she has a fine voice."

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><p>When he got back to his hollow, they were all having cups of milkberry tea. "It's amazing, Soren," Gylfie said. "Nest-maid snakes brought the tea around on their backs."<p>

"Yes, I really think there will be a place for me here, Soren. I think I can serve," Mrs. P. almost glowed as she said the word.

"Well, then, I think we'd better get some shut-eye. We must get up early for our introduction to the chaws tomorrow," Twilight said, before yawning and ruffling his plumage for sleep.

"Yes," Soren said hesitantly. "You're right, Twilight. Time for sleep."

The hollow was lined with the finest mosses and the fluffiest down. Soren made his way to a corner near the opening to watch the breaking dawn. The very last of the evening stars was just winking out and a lovely pinkness began to spread in the sky. The immense gnarled limbs of the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole stretched out and seemed to embrace the new day.

"This down," Soren whispired to Mrs. Plithiver, "reminds me of Mum."

"Oh, doesn't it, dear!" said Mrs. P., arranging herself into a neat coil in the same corner. then, as the owls nestled down, the loveliest, most unearthly sounds began to _pling_ softly through the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole, and a voice began to sing.

_Night is done, gone the moon, gone the stars _

_From the skies._

_Fades the black of the night _

_C__omes the morn with rosy light._

_Fold your wings, go to sleep, _

_Rest your gizzards,_

_Safe you'll be for the day._

_Glaux is nigh._

_Far away is First Black, __but it all shall seep back_

_Over field__, over flower._

_In the twilight hour._

_We are home, in our tree._

_We are owls, we are free._

_As we go, this we know_

_Glaux is nigh._

Soren never remebered feeling so peaceful.

"Digger, Soren, Gylf, you asleep?" Twilight called.

"Almost, Twi," Digger and Soren replied.

"How soon do you think until we get our first battle claws?"

"I have no idea, Twilight. But don't worry, good light," Soren replied sleepily.

"Good light, Twi," Digger said.

"Good light, Soren," Gylfie said.

"Good light, Gylf," Soren replied. And then added. "Good light, Mrs. P.."

But Mrs. Plithiver was already sound asleep.

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><p><strong>Phew!<strong>** (wipes forehead) This took forever! But aside from that, he we are; the Band has now settled in at Ga'Hoole. For those who are confused, both Otulissa and Strix Struma were depicted as Spotted Owls in the original book series, while in the movie, they are Short-Eared Owls. I portrayed them as Spotted Owls, because the Band will meet another Short-Eared Owl soon, Ruby. As you can see, I have already introduced to to Primrose, the sweet and frail Pygmy Owl. More to come in the next chapter. Stay tuned.**


	29. The Golden Talons

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>It was the deep, black part of the night. The moon had passed through its last moment of the dwenking and now it was gone completely. Gone for two nights at least, until its first silvery thread would reappear at the newing. Soren had been at the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole for almost a month now, and he had learned so much since his arrival. He could read better, write, and even count. He'd wanted so desperately to learn how to count when he was a hatchling, knowing how long before he could fly. That had become even more important to him, when he and Gylfie found themselves imprisoned at St. Aggie's, under the Pure Ones.<p>

But there was so much more to learn than simply counting. For a month now, he had had many lessons - flying lessons, even working with battle claws. He had practiced with almost every chaw except for the navigation chaw, the colliering chaw, and the weather interpretation chaw. For the last chaw, weather, Soren had felt spared because it was led by the grizzled old Whiskered Screech Owl, Ezylryb. They were considered among the fiercest and bravest of the Great Tree, for they had to fly through all sorts of storms, blizzards, and even hurricanes to gather important information for troops going into battle or on missions of search-and-rescue. And they brought back coals from burning forest fires, which fed the forge that made so many vital things for the Tree, from the weapons to pots and pans, and, of course, gave light to the candles. Indeed, as Soren heard Ezylryb once say, fire was the lifeblood of the tree, and as important as it was, there was nothing more dangerous.

And now on this blackest of nights, he was learning to navigate from Strix Struma.

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><p>"As you can see, young'uns," Strix Struma indicated to the heavens, using a great glowing light-source to bring out the constellations. "the position of the stars never change, which will only improve your skills as navigators. Now, we shall begin with a few simple tracing excersises, the Great Glaux will soon rise. The time of the Little Racoon has, of course, passed by this season but a new beauty shall appear for the first time tonight. The Golden Talons. It is an unusual constellation, for in this part of the world it shall be with us through summer." She raised her foot from the branch on which she perched. "And just like our talons, there are four - long, curved, and sharp ones formed by the stars."<p>

"But not gold," piped up Primrose, the Pygmy Owl that Sore had befriended on the night she had been brought in from the borderlands, singed and orphaned.

"The gold is an illusion, my dear," Strix Struma said. "It is caused by atmospheric wobble you shall all learn more about."

With a sudden blur and a slicing sound through the air, Strix Struma's talons shot out and caught a rather unfortunate Fruit Bat on the wing. "A little snack before we fly," she said and quickly de-winged the now dead animal, then served up the asty morsels to the young owls. Soren felt relieved to have the food chain in order once again. "We don't want to overeat before our lesson. That is never good, but a bit of bat gives a boost, I always find. Now, ready!"

"Yes, Strix Struma," they all replied.

Strix Struma preferred to dispense with the title of ryb and instead be called by her family name. She was a Spotted Owl who came from a very ancient ancestry of which she was intensely proud. "Good then, Primrose, I would like you flying directly behind me. Otulissa, seeing as you have had navigation before, I think I shall put you on my windward flank. Gylfie, you shall fly in the downwind flanking position. And Soren, you fly tail. Any questions?"

Soren blinked in amazement. Although he had been at the Tree for a month, those two simple words "Any questions" were still like magic to him after St. Aggie's.

Strix Struma always used the battle terminology, such as "flanks". For not only did Strix Struma have a proud and ancient lineage, but she had been trained for combat as a windward flanking sub-commander and had seen action at the Battle of Little Hoole. "Off we go, then!" And the large Spotted Owl rose in flight with the four young owls quickly maneuvering into their positions.

Soren flew several lengths behind Strix Struma so as not to be affected by the eddies curling off her very broad tail. He wished Twilight and Digger were flying with them, but the big Great Gray was in a more advanced navigation class. And Digger was training with the tracking chaw.

Twilight's Orphan School of Tough Learning had apparently taught him a lot because he had been placed in many advanced classes.

"Allright, class," Strix Struma spoke in the broad hooting tones that were indeed the voice of a mature Spotted Owl. These hoots now rolled back tward Soren. "Two points off to windward. Please not the first star of the Golden Talons rising."

"Ooh, this is so exciting." It was Otulissa trying her best to sound like Strix Struma, which she would someday, for she, too, was a Spotted Owl. But right now, she just sounded like what she was - a beak-polishing, feather fluffing owl always trying to impress the rybs. "And it's such an honor to be flying windward flank, Strix Struma, in the grand tradition of your noble family."

Soren blinked and winced. If Twilight had been here he would have yarped a pellet mid-flight right in her face. He saw Gylfie spin her head back and blink as she moved her beak silently. But Soren could understand perfectly what she was saying: "Do you believe her?"

Primrose spoke up. "Do you have a cold, Otulissa? You sound clogged up."

_Oh, great Glaux._ Soren thought he might die laughing. There was never an owl more sincere or innocent than Primrose. She never suspected anyone of anything. "Guileless," Gylfie called her. "Charmingly guileless." Often Soren didn't understand the words that Gylfie used, but in this case he began to. He knew what Gylfie meant. Primrose didn't have a fake hollow bone in her body. She was utterly truthful and always believed that all creatures were motivated by the best of reasons. She had, needless to say, never spent any time at St. Aggie's.

The navigation class flew on. It was not long after the first star in the Talons rose that several more broke out of the blackness, and it did seem as if four great golden talons clawed at the night.

"We shall trace each talon from its toe base to its sharp tip," hooted Strix Struma.

Soren was now flying directly behind Primrose, and he was becoming slightly confused as she constantly swiveled her head. An oddity about Pygmy Owls was that they had two dark spots on the back of the head that indeed looked like another set of eyes. Soren was finding this disorientating.

"Confusing, isn't it, dear?" Strix Struma had dropped back. "You're in a difficult position behind Primrose, but it's good training."

"Oh, Soren," Primrose swiveled her head. "It's my darned spots isn't it? I'm so embarrassed."

"Nonsense, child!" Strix Struma hooted. "Don't you ever belittle those spots. You'll see, they'll come in handy someday. We must learn to use our Glaux-given gifts and in that way we truly become not just gifts but treasures. Now you fly on. You're doing a nice job and I shall teach Soren some tricks to reduce his disorientation." She looked back at the young Barn Owl. "I had to fly behind a Pygmy Owl for years. Made me a terrific navigator. Now, what you do, Soren, is focus just below the spots. That will make things much easier."

And it did. In no time the spots seemed to entirely vanish.

* * *

><p>They flew on through the night, practicing mostly by tracing the Golden Talons. But now, one by one, the stars of the constellations slipped away over some distant horizon and into another world, and Strix struma led her class home to the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole in the middle of the Sea of Hoolemere, which, in its own way, was another world as well.<p>


	30. Hukla, Hukla, and Hope

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

* * *

><p>There was the noisy chattering of young owls, which was known as gazooling. Soren remembered it from his early life with his own family in the old fir tree. His sister, Elgantine, his brother, Kludd, and he would try out their unformed voices in a range of hoots and shreeings. Barn Owls, like all Tytos, were more screamers than hooters. It was a raucous time of the day before getting ready to rest. Here at the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole it was even rowdier. But for Soren, as the black of night thinned to gray and the gray became a cool purple that eventually warmed to rose, it could be a melancholy time.<p>

Soren could not figure out why he felt so sad. He had a lot to gazool about, as much as anyone else. of course, Twilight came up to him first, and the Barn Owl could barely squeeze in a word. "I did a fantastic power dive tonight. A tight spiral and I was down on the ground before you could flick a blink. Soren, I think Barran was really impressed. So you think there's a chance that she might recommend me for search-and-rescue?"

"But Twilight, if you were in the advanced navigation class with Barran, why were you practicing search-and-rescue moves?"

"Because Barran also teaches search-and-rescue chaw. She is filling in for that Allomere fellow out to find evidence of the Pure Ones."

That was all anyone ever talked about - being tapped for the various chaws. Next, Otulissa came up. "Oh, I don't know, Twilight, they tend to take owls with very old family lines. I wouldn't get my hopes up."

"Oh, racdrops!" boomed Bubo. "Make way! Make way! Let the nest snakes serve the tea. We all be starvin' and don't need to listen to none of this nonsense about old family lines. It's what you do here on this earth that counts."

Bubo wa the ruddy-colored owl with the very black talons whom Soren had first seen in the parliment. A high-shouldered, enormous Great Horned Owl, his ear tufts alone nearly stood as tall as Gylfie. His plumage was of an unusual coloring for a Great Horned, most of whom tended toward the brownish-gray tones. Bubo's feathers were actually almost flame-colored, which seemed appropriate, as he headed up the forge and was the Great Tree's blacksmith. So, despite what was said about Bubo's lowly origins and rough-and-tumble manner - a constant stream of curses issued from his beak - he was treated with great respect in the community of Ga'Hoole for his expertise in working with fire. The discovery and taming of fire was the single thing that most impressed Soren about the owls at the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole.

"Line up! Line up! Now, please don't rush the dear snakes. Please proceed in an orderly fashion." one of the matrons, the Short-Eared Owl said. The nest-maid snakes began to slither onto the dining area. Like Mrs. Plithiver, they were all blind, but had keen sensibilities to navigate their evironment. Gylfie, Soren, Twilight, and Digger were always served by Mrs. P., for indeed, she had been invited to join the staff and was thrilled to be in service once more.

The melancholy feelings that had filled Soren a few minutes before dissapeared as he and his friends stepped up to the stump where Mrs. P. awaited.

"Hello, young'uns," Mrs. P. hissed in her old, soft voice. "Good night in the Yonder? Classes went well?"

"Huh," Digger said. "Primrose over there doesn't have a place to eat." The Band look over to see the younger Pygmy Owl waddling around, desperately searching for a place to settle.

"Over here, Primrose," Gylfie waved a wing. "We have some space."

"Always room, dearie," Mrs. P. said as Primrose came over. "We always bring a few extra cups of tea."

"Oh, thank you. Thank you so much," Primrose spoke in a shaky voice.

"You alright, there?" Digger asked kindly.

"I'm fine. Just fine." She didn't sound all that fine. "Well, not so fine," she admitted. "All this talk of tapping is really making me nervous."

"Ah, don't be," Digger said cheerily. "Your gettin' too worked up. I know what'll brighten your sprits; how 'bout an owl joke?"

"Uh, okay."

"Why did the owl, say 'owl'?" Digger asked, excitement building in his voice.

"Don't ask, it's a trap!" Twilight whispered to the Pygmy Owl, but Gylfie kicked him in the leg with a tiny talon.

"Why?" Primrose asked.

"Because the woodpecker, would peck 'er!"

Primrose let out the tiniest giggle. "Wow, that was bad. But I do feel a little better now."

"And you're right to be so, there is entirely too much talk about this tapping business," Mrs. P. said "I think you young ones should relax and enjoy your tea while its warm. The cooks made special efforts with the milkberries. They added a few extra as the season shall be coming again soon and perhaps they can spare more without worrying."

"It's hard not to think about taping, Mrs. P.," Soren said. "It's all we think about."

"I'll say, I sure hope they realize the potential I have for the tracking chaw. I managed to find and dig out several Hermit Crabs earlier, but it would have gone more smoothly if one of them hadn't pinched me right on the bum," Digger said, tending his hindquarters.

"I want search-and-rescue myself. You get to wear battle claws," Twilight spoke up.

"You want to fight?" Primrose said with a note of alarm in her voice.

"I'd like to fight any vicious creature that came my way. Let me tell you, we gave those three ruffian owls a run for it that time in the desert. Didn't we?" He blinked toward Soren and Gylfie. They both prayed that the Great Gray wouldn't break out into one of his "songs" or shadow fights with an imaginary opponent here at this time. As lovable as he was, he could be really embarrassing.

"I don't really find the idea of nearly getting killed by another owl to be something worth boasting about," Gylfie muttered.

"Well, what happened?" Primrose urged. "I want to hear the story."

"Young'uns, I don't think this is the best time to talk about such things during a meal."

But it was too late. Digger had already launched into his story, and Primrose was spellbound. Mrs. Plithiver just sighed and muttered, "Hukla, hukla," which, in the special language of Blind Snakes, meant "Young owls will be young owls."

* * *

><p>The owls had already settled down for the day. It had been several hours since Madame Plonk had sung her lovely "<em>Night Is Done<em>" song and all had wished one another good light until the next night. But Soren had trouble falling asleep, and then he woke up in that slow time of the day for owls, when silence seems to press down over everything and the air is thick with sunlight and the minutes drag by. Time seemed to crawl and one wondered if there would ever be blackness again. Once more, Soren felt that melancholy feeling. He was not sure exactly what was causing it. He should be so happy here. Mrs. Plithiver was often up at this time of day. Perhaps he would make his way down to her hollow to have a chat. She lived there with two other nest-maid snakes.

The three snakes shared a mossy pocket in the tree nearly one hundred feet below where the Band slept. Being cold-blooded, the snakes enjoyed sleeping with warm stones, so these stones could be found wherever they rested. Bubo always heated up several so they could have them in their quarters. Soren liked the heat they generated. It released wafts of war air that softened the moss that grew on Great Tree. This moss was actually used in a soup that was made by the cooks. There was barely a part of the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole that was not used for something. It was for this reason that the owls so carefully nurtured and cared for their home - never overpicking the milkberries, and burying their pellets around the roots of the tree where their rich, nourishing contents would be most directly absorbed.

Soren gently alighted outside of the opening of the hollow and peered in. But before he could even speak, Mrs. P. must have sensed his presence.

"Soren, dear boy, what are you doing up this time of day? Come on in, young'un."

"Aren't the other nest-maids asleep?"

"Oh, no. They're all out doing guild business."

There were several guilds; the harp guild, the lacemakers, weavers, and others to which the Blind Snakes belonged. One had to be chosen. It was rather like the tapping ceremony for the chaws. Mrs. Plithiver had not yet been chosen for any guild.

"Mrs P., I know you probably don't have all the answers, but I needed someone to..."

Mrs. P. coild up and cocked her head in that particularly sympathetic way she said. "Soren," she spoke softly and there was something in the very softness of her voice that made Soren choke on his sentence. "You wanted to talk to me about Eglantine, didn't you?"

As soon as she said it, Soren knew she was right. he missed his parents terribly but he wasn't quite worried about them. Eglantine, however, was a different story. Mrs. P. had thought about it herself, as well.

"It's not knowing, isn't it, that's so hard. Not knowing if Eglantine is dead or alive..."

"Or imprisoned," Soren said.

"Yes dear, I know."

Soren dreaded the idea of the Pure Ones snatching Eglantine. If so, she might find herself without an identity, mindlessley picking apart pellets for those damnable flecks. But she was a Barn Owl; A Tyto. She would be brainwashed with false notions of supremacy, and molded into a monster like they were. If that happened, could he save her? and what about Kludd? Could he save _him_?

Soren simply couldn't stop himself. "If Eglantine _is_ with the Pure Ones, do you think we would be able to save her?"

Mrs. Plithiver waved her head about ing a small figure eight, which was the manner in which snakes often moved when they could not quite decide what to say or do. Soren peered at her closely. She looked sad. He suddenly felt terrible. "I'm sorry, Mrs. P., I won't mention that again."

"No, dear. Come to me whenever you want to talk about Eglantine. I think it will help you, but let's not get carried away with this Pure One business. I have a feeling deep ithin me that Elangtine has not been harmed. Now, I cannot tell you more than that, but I think, together, we can hope. Hope is never a foolish thing - altough others will tell you it is. But I don't need to tell you that, Soren - look at yourself. You were snatched and you learned to fly and you escaped from that awful St. Aggie's. You flew clear out of those stone canyons and right into the Yonder. Anyone who flies out of a stone hole into the Yonder knows about hope."

It was always this way when Soren spoke to Mrs. P.. She always made him feel so much better. It was just as if a clean rain had washed away all of the worry and the sadness. Yes, he still missed his family. He would always miss his parents, Kludd as well, more or less, and he would never get used to it, But Mrs. P. had given him hope about Eglantine, and this alone made him feel so much better. He decided to take the outside route back to his hollow. The day guard on this side of the tree was very nice and wouldn't mind that he had gone down to see his old nest-maid. And there wan't any real rules at the Great Ga'Hoole Tree about having to stay in your hollow asleep all day until the wake-up calls of good night. So, he stepped out on a branch and lifted into flight, swooping through the spreading limbs of the old tree. Yes, Mrs. P. was right. He could see the beginnings of the new milkberries forming on the long glistening threads they called silver rain at this time of the year.

These slim vines cascaded down from branches of the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole and swayed like sheer curtains in the afternoon sun. In winter, they were white and then in the spring they turned silvery, by summer they would be golden, and by fall they would turn a deep coppery rose. Thus, in Ga'Hoole, the seasons were not simply called winter, summer, spring, and fall, but the times of the white rain, the silver rain, the golden rain, and the copper rose rain. For the younger owls, there was nothing more fun than to fly amid the glistening curtains. Therefore they had developed all sorts of games to be played. But on this bright afternoon, everyone was asleep so Soren found himself alone. Rain must have just fallen for the vines sparkled with beads of water and behind one curtain he caught the shimmering colors of a rainbow.

"Lovely, isn't it?" A voice melted like a chime out of the silver rain. It was Madame Plonk, the harp singer, who sang them to sleep each morning. She was a Snowy Owl and, as she sailed through the silver rain, Soren blinked in amazement, for he had never seen such a beautiful sight. She was no longer snowy white but indeed had become a living, flying rainbow. All colors seemed to radiate from her plumage.

Soren wished that one of the chaws of the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole could be learning the harp and singing from Madame Plonk. But the pluckers of the harp were never owls, only blind snakes. A choir was only called in during special events, such as a holiday. Perhaps sucha lesson would serve Twilight well.

They flew, weaving themselves through the vines and the hues of the rainbow for a few more minutes. Then Madame Plonk said, "Time for me to go, dear. Wake-up time. Evensong must be sung. I see the snakes coming out now, making their way toward the harp. Can't be late. But I've enjoyed our afternoon flight. We'll do it again sometime. Or drop by for a cup of milkberry tea."

Soren wondered if he would ever have the nerve to just "drop by" Madame Plonk's for a cup of tea. What would he ever have to say to such a beautiful and elegant owl? Flying was one thing, but sitting and talking was another. Soren saw dozens of rosy-scaled snakes crawling up to the hollow where the great harp was kept. Soon the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole would begin to awake and stir to the lovely harmonies of Evensong. For twilight was upon them.


	31. Books of The Yonder

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

* * *

><p>Kludd had been summoned to the High Tyto's lair as the sun reached its midway point in the sky. Upon Nyra's insistance, he had brought Eglantine along with him, using Jatt and Jutt as her toters. By now she was half fledged, a good deal of her feathers having grown in. She was still nervous about spending time at St. Aggie's, but she would grow to love it soon. This was, after all, her new home and destiny.<p>

Eglantine stood alone in a corner as Kludd presented himself to Metalbeak and Nyra, who perched together on their throne. Metalbeak, in all his frightening glory, looked down upon his young disciple with a smug expression. Kludd had far exceded his epectations as a loyal Pure One, and was now going through the final stage of his training. And today couldn't have been a better time.

"I must say, soldier," Metalbeak said in his usual low, menacing voice. "When I first met you, I didn't think you had what it took to join the Tytonic Union of Pure Ones. But now it is clear that you are a Glauxsend. You've shown loyalty, discipline, ambition, and ruthlessness; things a true Pure One must have."

"Thank you, my lord," Kludd said humbley, bowing his head.

"But now we must put your newfound skills to the test: One of our lowly snatchers has failed to recognized his place in the Pure Ones, and must be disposed of. I trust you know what to do?"

Kludd nodded.

"Bring him in." Metalbeak ordered, and both Stryker and Wortmore dragged a bound Great Horned Owl from the shadows. His legs were tied together, and his wings were reduced to stumps. Stryker pushed him down onto the stone floor, making him lay face-up, his breast heaving.

"Finish him," Metalbeak said coldly, and tossed a small dagger to the young Tyto's feet. Cautiously picking it up, Kludd fluttered over to the mutilated owl, and loomed over him. At that moment, the Barn Owl felt his gizzard hardern. He had never killed an owl before, which, as he had been told since he hatched, was wrong. But now he had a duty to fulfill, and besides, he was of a lower species.

In a single jab, Kludd drove the dagger right into the owl's throat. He thought he heard Elgantine make a sound like both a gasp and a shriek. As he watched the owl's breath leave his body, he felt a presence behind him. He looked back to see that the High Tyto had come down from his throne and was now standing in front of him.

"Well done, boy. Well done," he said. "You truly are the greatest asset to the Pure Ones. In light of this, I now have a new proposal for you. As you can see, my beloved Nyra and I are of seperate species. Because of this, I have no sons, no heirs, and I am quite old as you can imagine. I have decided that by the time I expire, you shall inherit my place as High Tyto. You shall have everything you see before you. The army, the flecks, the owl kingdoms, even my beautiful queen: It will all be yours."

Kludd's beak dropped open in astonishment. In all his life, he had never, ever thought he would achieve such greatness. Wordlessly, he lazily nodded his head in confirmation, his brain somewhat nulled from this news. But in the backround, his little sister, Eglantine, shivered as she reached a new level of terror. Things were getting even worse here at St. Ageolius. He had to get out of here. She just had to.

* * *

><p>"Now, young'uns, please follow me as we explore the wonderous root structure of our dear tree. You see where the roots bump up from the ground." It was the Ga'Hoolology ryb, a boring old Burrowing Owl named Dewlap.<p>

"Here's one."

"Oh, yes Otulissa. A perfect example. Now if we can find a pellet or if someone would care to yarp one, I shall demonstrate the proper burying technique. Pellets properly buried nourish the tree," the ryb continued.

"This is the most _boring_ class," sighed Soren. They had been stomping around the base of the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole all during twilight.

"I don't think it's that bad," said Digger, who of course, being a Burrowing Owl, preferred ground activities. "Sometimes, you have to accept whatever life throws at you, like me!" he exclaimed, twisting his head upside-down with a zany expression.

"I don't know what I'll do if I'm tapped for Ga'Hoolology," Twilight muttered.

"You? Never," Soren said, but he was secretly worried that he might be. He realized that knowing about the tree was important. Dewlap constantly drummed this into them just as she was doing now. "The Great Tree has thrived for these thosands of years because the owls that live here have been such excellent stewards of this little piece of earth that the Great Glaux gave them." Twilight began to mouth the words as she said them.

"That is so rude," Otulissa hissed.

"Oh, go yarp a pellet!" Twilight barked back.

"What's that? Someone has a pellet to yarp? Twilight dear, come up here. I believe I heard you say you have a little gift to bestow on our Great Tree."

* * *

><p>Class finally ended an hour before First Black. There was still time to go to the library. This was Soren and Gylfie's favorite place in the old tree. The young owls had a special fondness for libraries that went beyond the wonderful books that they were now learning how to read. At St. Ageolius, the library had been strictly of limits to everyone except the highest-ranking Pure Ones. Nobody really knew how to read except Metalbeak maybe, but here everyone knew how to read and they read constantly. But the reason why libraries were so peaceful to Gylfie and Soren was that it was from the now destroyed library at St. Aggie's that they had escaped.<p>

For the two young owls, librabries meant freedom in every way. Sometimes, Soren thought that libraries for him were a kind of Yonder, in the sense that Mrs. Plithiver and other snakes in general spoke of the sky. The sky was so far away for snakes, as far as anything could be, was a world unseen. But as Soren and Gylfie learned to read they began to get glimmerings of worlds unseen.

The only problem with they library was the old Whiskered Screech Owl, Ezylryb. He was always there, and he was still as unsettling as he had been that day when Soren first saw him in the parliment and felt his squinted eye burning into him. The old bird rarely spoke and when he did it was in low, growlish hoot. He had a fondness for caterpillars and kept a stor of dried ones for when they were out of season. These he put in a little pile by his spot in the library. It was not what Ezylryb said that Soren and Gylfie found unnerving, but what he didn't say. He seemed to quitely observe everything even as he read with his one and a half eyes. Every once in a while he emmited a low growl of what they could only feel was disapproval. But worst of all was his deformed foot. And although Soren and Gylfie knew it was impolite to star, their eyes cjust seemed to be drawn to that foot. Soren admitted to Gylfie that he couldn't help it, and Gylfie said that she herself was fearful of making a terrible slip. Yet, they knew he wasn't all that bad, for he had stood up for them during their visit to the parliment, after Allomere had dismissed their story of the Pure Ones as false.

There were, however, too many compelling reasons to go to the library. So, they went and learned to ignore the grizzled owl's growlish hoots, trying not to stare as his foot and trying to avoid the yellow of his squinting eye. the library was quite high in in the Great Tree in a roomy hollow that was lined with books, and the floor was spread with lovely carpets of mosses, grasses, and occasional strands of down. When Soren and Gylfie entered, they spotted Ezylryb in his usual spot. There was the pile of caterpillars. Every now and then he would pluck one and munch it. His beak was now poked into a book titled _Magnetic Properties and how They Occur._

Soren mad his way toward a shelf that has books about barns and churches, the great structures built by a species commonly known as man. Soren enjoyed enjoyed such books for many Tytos, especially Barn Owl, actually lived in places like these. Some of the churches were magnificent, with windows stained the colors of rainbows and stone spires that soard high into the sky. But Soren preferred the simpler wooden churches, neatly painted, with something called steeples for their bells. Gylfie like books with poems funny riddles, and jokes. She went to see if a book she had discovered yesterday was still there, called _The Great Book of Owl Humor._ It was written by Philomena Bagwhistle, a well-known nest-maid snake who had spent many years in service.

But just as Gylfie was abou to pull the appropirately-sized book from the shelf there was a low growl. "You can do better than that, young one. One night with that Bagwhistle slop is quite enough, I'd say. Why not try something a little weightier?"

"Like what?" Gylfie said in a small voice.

"Try that one over there." Ezylryb raised his foot, the one with three talons, and pointed to large book further off. Soren walked up to the indicated shelf and pulled the book with one talon. Tucking it under his wing, he and Gylfie went over one of the reading stands and set the book into place.

Gylfie began sounding out the words, _"Tempers of the Gizzard: The Vital Organ of Avians."_

"What are avians?" whispered Soren.

"Us." Gylfie said softly. "That's the fancy name for all birds, whether we're owls or eagles or even seagulls."

Soren an Gylfie opened the book. Thank goodness there where lots of picture but they had a go at the first paragraph.

_The gizzard is a most marvelous organ. Considered the __second stomach in birds and often called the muscular stomach, it does most of the work when food is digested. In predatory birds, such as hawks and owls, the gizzard compresses the indigestible parts, like fur, bones, feathers, and teeth, into a pellet. The pellets are then yarped up through the beak. [see footnote pertaining to identification of bird species through pellet analysis.]_

"I think we can skip the footnotes," Soren whispered, hoping that Ezylryb wouldn't hear. "This is boring enough as it is."

"Oh, I always skip the footnotes," Gylfie said.

"How many books with footnotes have you read, Gylfie?" Soren blinked in surprise.

"One. It was about feather matinence. But look," Gylfie pointed with her talon to the next paragraph.

_Volumes have been written about the physical processes of the gizzard. But rarely do we find much in the literature concerning the temper of this marvelous organ. This seems like a gross oversight. For we do not attribute all of our most profound feelings to the sensitivity of this muscular organ? How many times a day does a bir thi, "Oh, I feel it in my gizzard?" When we feel a strong passion, or perhaps trust, or even distrust, is our first reaction._

"Well, that's the truth," Soren said. "There's not much new in that. Hardly original."

"Hold on, Soren. Look what it says here."

_We use our gizzards as our guide. Our gizzards, indeed, do oftennavigate us over treacherous emotional terrain. However, it is my considered opinion that the immature fledgling does not always know for certain his or her gizzardly instincts. Why do so many break the one rule their parents tell them never to break and try to fly too young, thus falling out of nests? Stubbornness. They have looked blocked out certain subtle signals their gizzards might be sending them..._

Soren looked up and saw Ezylryb staring at them. "Why do think he's having us read this?"

"I think he's trying to send us a message," Gylfie replied.

"What? Don't be stubborn? Open up your gizzard?"

"I don't know, but it's alost time for night flight excersises."

They closed the book and backed out of the library, trying to ignore the grizzled old owl as he munched on another caterpillar.

* * *

><p>"Good Glaux, I can't imagine having Ezylryb as a chaw leader. It's just too creepy to even think about," Soren said and he and Gylfie walked through the maze of owls on one of the man wooden brdges on the tree.<p>

"You know if you get tapped for colliering, you auto matically have to take weather interpretation and fly with that chaw as well," Gylfie said.

"Well, who wants to get tapped for colliering and get their beak singed, anyway?" Soren replied dejectedly.

"Mabye if you do it properly you never get singed, and that's what Bubo helps teach. It would be great have _him_ as a chaw leader."

"Yeah, but if you get Ezylryb with him, I'd hardly call that a bargain. It's that other owl, Elvan, who leads the colliers. I don't see why you have to do weather with colliering."

"Well, you fly into forest fires and pick up burning embers. and forest fires are like weather systems all by themselves. There are winds and drafts the heat can cause. I heard Bubo talking about it the other day."

Soren decided not to worry about it.

Just at that moment Digger came up. "Ready for some night flight, you two?" Digger asked excitedly, his body already pumped with adrenaline.

"Ready as we'll ever be," Soren chuckled as they followed their quirky friend.


	32. Night Flight

**Sorry for the wait, this week has been hectic. A bit of trouble in school and I just got back from a little vacation trip to Daytona, Florida (during my last night at which, I am typing this). Putting that aside, enjoy.**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

* * *

><p>The night flight was always fun. There was never any special purpose for it. It really was mostly recreational. Boron and Barran liked to get all the newly arrived owls together with some of the other young owls in the blackness of the sky so they could, as Boron put it, "Buddy up, tell a few jokes, yarp a few pellets, and hoot at the moon".<p>

"Feel the air!" Barran cried out with joy to the young owls, who were doing all kinds of acrobatic feats as they flew.

Otulissa dropped back to where Soren was flying. "So, are you excited for the tappings? They begin tonight."

"They do?" Soren asked nervously.

"Yep."

Each chaw had symbolic objects that the leader left in a young owl's bedding. Find ten pebbles arranged in the patter of the Great Glaux constellation when you went to sleep at First Light, and that meant you were in the navigation chaw of Strix Struma. A pellet was for the tracking chaw under a Burrowing Owl named Sylvanna, or a milkberry for the Ga'Hoolology chaw with Dewlap. A molted feather was a stmbol for the search-and-rescue chaw, led temporarily by Barran. A dried caterpillar was naturally for Ezylryb's weather chaw. A piece of coal and a caterpillar meant that you had been picked for colliering and were by necessity in for double duty and required to fly with the weather chaw as well.

"Do you have any hopes for a specific chaw, Soren?" Otulissa asked.

"I prefer not to discuss my gizzardly feeling," he replied almost primly.

Otulissa turned to Primrose, who was flying rather noisily due to her lack of plummels, which is what gave so many owls their silent flight. Smaller owls like Pygmy of Elf Owls had no such fringes. "What about you, Primrose? Any little twinges in the old gizzard?"

"Oh, I don't know, Otulissa. One minute I think I'm a sure bet for search-and-rescue, which I'd love, and then the next, I think they'll tap me for tracking, which I guess I wouldn't mind, you know. I just can't say for sure. I mean, I think that's part of the problem."

"What do you mean - what problem?"

"My gizzard - it's just so here, there, everywhere. I mean, when you said 'old gizzard', I realized my gizzard isn't so old, nor is yours for that matter, but you seem to know it better."

"Oh, I know my gizzard," Otulissa nodded smugly.

"Lucky you," the smaller owl sighed.

Sore had been listening and blinked in wonderment at Primrose's words. They were exactly what the author of the book had been talking about - the immature gizzard of an immature owl.

Soren cut behind Otulissa and came up to Primrose's windward saide. "Primrose, were you in the library reading that book about the physiology of and the temper of a bird's gizzard?"

"Oh, good Glaux, no. I only read joke books and romances, for the most part, and never anything with 'ology' in the title. Do you know that Madame Plonk has written a memoir about her love life? She's had a lot of mates who died. It's called _My Fabulous Life and Times._ There's a lot about music in it. I love Madame Plonk."

"Who wants to read about that?" Twilight flew up. "If you ask me, she wouldn't know true music if I whacked her across the face. Enough to make any creature yarp, all that romantic stuff. I like reading about weapons, battle claws, war hammers."

"Well," said Otulissa, "I must agree with you on that, in some ways. I don't especially like reading about weapons but I find Madame Plonk rather coarse and unrefined. Have you ever been to her 'apartments', as she calls them?"

"Oh yes," Primrose made a rapturous little hooting noise. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"Yes, beautiful with other creatures' things - bits of crockery and teacups made out of something she calls porcelian. You'd think that under all those snowy white feathers there was a magpie in disguise."

Simply to change the subject, Soren decided to ask Otulissa how she came to the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole.

"When did you come here, Otulissa?"

"It was during the time of the copper rose rain. I came from Ambala. My mother and father had lost two eggs and had gone out to see if they could find them, somehow. I was left in the hollow with a very distracted aunt of mine. Well, she decided to go visit a friend of hers, and I became worried. I couldn't fly yet, but part of my gizzard told me I didn't have much of a choice at the time. And when I tired, I fell, simple as that."

Soren was a little impressed. He never took Otulissa, a very proud owl, for someone who would admit that even _she_ would do foolish things once in a while.

"Luckily," Otulissa continued, "some search-and-rescue patrols from the Great Tree, Allomere in particular, came by and found me. They put me back in my nest and we waited for my aunt and my parents, but none of them ever returned. So, I assume that they were met with disaster trying to recover the eggs. Of course, my aunt, well I'm not sure what really happened to her. She was always such a scatterbrained owl. In any case, the patrols took me back here to the tree." She paused for a second, then blinked. "I'm probably, like many of the new arrivals here, an orphan."

Soren was taken aback. It was perhaps the nicest thing Otulissa had ever said. She seldom thought of herself being like anyone else or sharing any traits, except with the most distinguished of her S_trix_ ancestors. But he also began to think about Allomere; why hadn't the old serch-and-rescue ryb come back yet? He had promised to find proof of the Pure Ones with his two best subordinates, and report back as quickly as possible. Had they been killed? Were they still searching? It had been well over a month.

Boron clacked his beak loudly, announcing that night flight was finished, and he had spotted Strix Struma making her way upwind to take over for navigation.

"It will be a short class tonight, young'uns," the elderly Spotted Owl announced upon arriving. "For as you know, this is a special night, and we want to be sure to get back before First Light."

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><p>The owls had returned to the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole at that border of darkness that they called the Deep Gray, when the black has faded bt the sun has not yet spilled even the first sliver of a ray over the horizon. Nobody really wanted anything else to eat. It took all too long and the nest snakes seemed unbearably slow as they slithered in with the cups of tea on their backs. There was an unusual silence during teatime. It was as if everyone was too worried to speak, and there was absolutely no talk about feelings in one's gizzard.<p>

"No seconds, anyone?" Mrs. P. said. "I'd be happy to go back nad get some, and there are more nice little nootie cakes."

Finally, the time came for good light. Madame Plonk would, of course, be singing the beautiful good light song, and then the young owls would look into their bedding materials to discover their destinies. Unsually, after Madame Plonk's song there was total silence, but not this time. Instead, their would be racous shrieks mixed with dissapointed groans.

Soren, Digger, Twilight, and Gylfie went to their hollow.

"Well, good luck, friends," Digger said. "Let's all hope we get what we want."

Suddenly, Soren realizd that was his problem. He didn't know what he truley wanted. He only knew what he didn't want. Truly he was an immature owl with an immature gizzard.

As the each tucked into their corners, the first chords from the great harp were plucked and then came the soft _plings_ of Madame Plon's eerily beautiful voice. All too quickly, the last verses of the song came up. Soren felt his heart quicken and a stirring in his gizzard.

_Far away, is First Black,_

_But it all, shall seep back_

_Over field_

_Over flower_

_In the twilight hour._

_We are home, in out tree._

_We are owls, we are free._

_As we go, this we know_

_Glaux is nigh._

Then there were the sounds of owls burrowing into the downy fluff of their bedding and then the first gasps came. "A pellet!" Digger exclaimed. "I got tracking chaw!" The Burrowing Owl's gizzard swelled with excitement, for secretly, he had a crush on the tracking chaw's young ryb, Sylvana.

Next, a whoop came from Twilight. "Haha! Search-and-rescue! Hazzah!"

"Ten pebbles! Soren, I can't believe it. I didn't think Strix Struma liked me that much," Gylfie exclaimed in surprise. And then there was silence as three pairs of yellow eyes fell upon the Band's leader. "Soren," Digger said, "what did you get?"

"I...I...I'm not sure."

"Not sure?" Gylfie parroted. They were all puzzled. How could one not be sure?

"Soren," Twilight said, "I just look. Get it over with. It can't be that bad."

Soren sighed and, carefully, plucked away an old feather with one talon. A dark lump poked through and beside it was the shriveled body of a dried caterpillar. At this point, the rest of the world seemed to fade away from the Barn Owl. He was now in both coliering and weather-interpretation...under the squinted eye of Ezylryb.

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><p><strong>Well, another one down, and the Band has now been tapped for their own chaws, and Soren has been chosen to learn from Ezylryb. Let's see how that goes in the next chapter. Anyway, please review.<strong>


	33. A Visit to Bubo

**Sorry for the delay. Had to help with preparing for the holidays. Hopefully other authors like me will be this devoted to their work.**

_Disclaimer: I don not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>"One-two-one-two. That's it, good posture, Ruby. Tuck in that beak, Shard...one-two-one-two..." This was their second chaw practice for colliering and Soren had never been more depressed, not since his horrible tme at St. Aggie's. The colliering ryb, another Barn Owl named Elvan, stood in the center of a platform that had been placed above the lowest, thickest part of the Great Tree's trunk. It was near the forge where Bubo worked, keeping them supplied with red-hot coals. Elvan gave commands and insisted that the new chaw members march in time as he kept count. Soren had a deep aversion to marching. He had been forced to march all the time at St. Aggie's. Elvan said that this marching was necessary to establish the proper rythym that helped in holding a live coal in their beaks. He spent the first five minutes of class being scared and the remainder being bored. If anyone had told him that it was possible to be both in the same practice, he would have said they were yoicks. It was odd that he hardly felt heat. He did notice, however that the feathers under Elvan's beak, seemed to have lost their luster.<p>

Soren thought of his own face, covered in pure white feathers. This was the most distinctive feature of Barn Owls, and most Tytos in general. He really did not want to think of his own face growing singed and sooty. Mabye he was vain but he couldn't help it.

"Pay attention, Soren!" Elvan barked. "You nearly ran into Otulissa!"

The young Spotted Owl, much to her dismay, had been chosen for both eather interpretation and colliering, just as Soren had. She had been devestated by it, having so desperately wanted to be in navigation with Strix Struma. But now both she, and Soren, would have to deal with their current situation, like it or not. Thank Glaux she wasn't able to complain with a coal in her beak, though.

"All right, rest time. Drop your coals," Elvan announced.

Rest wasn't really rest, however, as the ryb lectured them the entire time. "Tomorrow you shall begin flying with the coals in your beaks. It is not that different from walking, I assure you. Although you must take care to keep your coal alive and burning."

"That's right," Bubo boomed. "A dead coal ain't going to do me a bit of good, young'uns. No sense flying in here with a great lot of ashes, cold as Glaux knows what."

"Yes," continued Elvan. "We don't want to dissapoint Bubo."

Elvan spoke for the rest of the break. "And then, of course, after you have had enough nights of weather training, we shall find a nice forest fire for you -nothing too big, mind you. Just a nice little beginning fire with a good mix of trees - Ga'Hooles, firs, pine, some soft and hard woods. Not too many ridges or mountains to complicate wind patterns."

"Pardon me," piped up a little Saw-whet Owl, Martin, who had been rescued the same night as Primrose.

"Yes, Martin," Evlan said.

"Well, I don't understand why we need new coals all the time. Once you start a fire going, wouldn't there already be new coals?"

_This was some smart little owl_, Soren thought. Why hadn't the others thought of this question? Why _were_ new coals from a new fire needed?

Elvan turned to the large Great Horned next to him. "Bubo, as chief smith, would you care to answer that?"

"Sure thing mate." He stepped up to Matrin, and, towering over him, said, "A very good question. You're right, it is very possible to keep fires going forever and that is fine for some things - things like cooking and warming up a hollow. But for certain tasks, especially metalwork in the forge, we need fresh coals that have been born of sparking trees full of sap. they're the blood of our hottest fires. Then again, we need a variety of coals. Certian coals from certain trees last longer. That's how a fire gets bonk."

"What's bonk?" asked Shard, a young Great Horned Owl who, if Soren had to guess, was around Kludd's age.

"Ah, that's an old smith's term. Hard to explain unless you've been working with the fires for some time. Then you know when you've got a bonk fire going in your forge. You know you got to look for the blue in the flame and then, this is the hardest, a tinge of green around it."

Soren was impressed. Being a blacksmith was truly a complicated business. Even though Bubo did not have title of ryb, he must have been smart enough to be one.

* * *

><p>Soon, rest time was over, and they were told to begin marching without their coals to establish the rhythm again.<p>

"I simply can't bear this a minute longer," Otulissa pouted.

"I think it's going to be great fun when we can fly," said Ruby, a ruddy-colored Short-eared Owl that Soren nearly bumped into.

"How can you say that, Ruby? this is really not the appropriate chaw for you, either, no more than me. You of all owls, with your family backround - you should be in tracking."

"Just because my species enjoys nesting on the ground doesn't meant I can't try something new."

"But you can fly low and slow; that's good for tracking."

"Yet I've never flown through a forest fire. And I can't wait until weather interpretation - a hurricane! Just imagine flying through that. Life in that ground nest was boring. We were out there in the grasslands - it was always the same. The sound of the wind in the grass just the same, and the thunderous sound of a passing herd of wildebeast or buffalo was the same as well. Oh, yes. Sometimes it was louder or faster, depending on how far away they were. But there was a terrible sameness. I can't believe how lucky I am to be double chawed." Ruby sighed with pleasure.

Soren blinked. He wished he felt this way. He wanted to ask Ruby if she was nervous about Ezylryb, but at the same time he didn't want to admit that he was. Ruby was a very tough little owl. She had been brought in by serach-and-rescue shortly after Soren had arrived. She had not fallen from a nest, for indeed to fall out of a ground nest was vitually impossible. But something had scared her so much when her parents were out hunting, she had actually flown before her primaries were fledged. She had been found exhausted but perched in one of the few trees in the grasslands, her talons dug tightly into the bark.

"Oy," Shard whispered to Soren. "Any more of this talk, and I'll have to burn my ear slits shut with these coals."

The young Barn Owl chuckled. Shard knew how to lighten the mood on things, no matter how tedious or boring. Like Ruby, he had an interesting backround as well. He had grown up at Ga'Hoole all his life, after being taken from the vast Shadow Forest. According to the Guardians, Shard's parents were killed by several rogue owls just as he was hatching. Luckily, patrolling search-and-rescue, led by Allomere, had driven off the attackers before they could harm the newborn chick. From there, the guardians took him back with them. he recieved his name after the piece of eggshell that was still stuck to his body when he arrived. It was saddening, to know that an owl had grown up without his mother or father, making Soren realise he was very lucky to have known his. He had know reason to doubt that the owls who slew Shard's family were Pure Ones.

Finally, chaw practice was over. Soren dreaded teatime. If it was like yesterday, Twilight would be bragging about his power dives and reverse spiral twists. Gylfie and Digger would both talk about how exciting their practices were, and he, Soren, would have nothing to say. Mabye he would skip tea. Just as he was having this thought, Bubo walked up to him.

"It gets better, Soren. It really does. Anyone with working eyes can see it's tough for you. It wasn't the chaw you probably wanted, but it's really an honor - double chawed and all. come on now, lad. Take tea in the forge. I got some fresh moles, you can have them raw or smoked - whatever your fancy, and the cooks made a nice milkberry tart."

Soren followed Bubo into the cave-like hollow where the tree's giant limbs met at the trunk, which served as both the blacksmith's forge and home. Soren had never been in Bubo's forge before and,once on went deep enough into the cave to escape the heat, it was quite comfortable - all fitted up with moleskin rugs and a surprising number of books. Soren had never taken Bubo for a bookish sort of owl.

"What's this?" Soren said as he spotted a contraption dangling from the "ceiling". It had bright-colored things swirling about, catching the reflections of the many lit candles. As the bright wits swirled, they cast spots of color in all directions.

"Ah, me whirlyglass. Plonk helped put it together for me."

"Madame Plonk?" Soren couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. he had never heard anyone refer to her as simply "Plonk".

"Oh, yeah, Plonk and I go back - way back." He winked his eye. Soren wondered if Bubo was part of Madame Plonk's book about her love life. "She's got a special relationship with Mags so she can get me lots of bits of glass." Bubo pushed a cup of milkberry tea to Soren along with a morsel of mole. "You know, when you start flying weather with Ezylryb, he won't let yoy eat meat cooked. He likes you to gulp it down raw with the fur on it. Says you can't fly into a blizzard or a hurrican with burnt-up meat in your gut and nothing for your gizzard to grind."

"Oh," said Soren. "But who's Mags?"

"You ain't never heard of Trader Mags?" Soren shook his head. "I forgot, you only been here alittle while, and Mags, I guess, she hasn't been here since summer."

Bubo pointed a talon at the whirlyglass. "Those bright pieces came from what was called a window in them churches."

"Churches!" Soren exclaimed. "I know about them; they're places of worship. And that's stained glass from their windows. I hear some Barn Owls live in them."

"Certainly do. Some live in barns as well, and even castles."

"Castles - what's a castle?"

"Well it ain't a church and it ain't a barn, but it's a very old type of structure, used kinda like the Great Tree. Big fancy thing made from big stones, towers, walls, one them big things built by man."

Soren was always interested to hear something about men, no matter how confusing it was. He knew that they were a strange type of creature, that lived very far away from any owl kingdom, though they did sometimes show up in places like the Forest kingdom of Tyto, or Ambala. He lived in huge communities called "cities", not unlike the lifestyle of the owls at the tree. He also knew that man was the greatest predator in the world, his mind capable of making tools that could kill the largest elephant, or fell even the tallest tree. It was ironic that even though man was smart, he had little idea of what really happened in nature, such as the existence of Ga'Hoole.

"Castles," Soren said dreamily. "Sounds exciting, very grand."

"Oh, grand indeed. But if you ask me, no owl, Barn Owl or not, belongs in a chruch or a barn or castle. Better life in a tree."

"But you live in a cave."

"That's different."

"I don't see why. Don't you miss living in a tree? I mean, it's not like you were born like a Burrowing Owl. Don't you miss the sky?"

"I warn't born no Burrowing Owl, that's the truth. I be a Great Horned through and through, and it ain't customary for any Great Horned to go about life in a cave. But you see, I be a smith. It's in my gizzard, this feeling for the metals." He gesture to his bookshelf that indeed had many books about metals and forging. "And we smiths, no matter if we're Great Grays, Horned, Snowies or Spotted, get these special feelings in the old gizzard, you know. We fly, yes, we love the sky, but we's drawn to the earth. It's as if all these years workin' with the iron, we get a bit of the magnet in ourselves."

Soren thought of his own hollow that he shared with Gylfie, Twilight and Digger. there was an opening just the shape of an owl's beak through which they could glimpse the sky. So during the day there was always a pretty slice of blue in their hollow and when they came back from night flights before the dawn rose, it perfectly framed the last of the evening stars. They could feel the wind and hear the stirrings of the milkberry vines. Soren did not think he would like living in a cave. But mabye he was only thinking in his own perspective.

"Plonk's going to start singing good light any minute. You better fly on up to your hollow. A lot of things to do tomorrow. Elvan thinks you'll be ready to fly with the coals. Now remember son, pay attention. You almost bumped into Otulissa today." Bubo squinted at Soren. "You know, not everyone is chosen to be double chawed like you. Boron and Barran must think you got something special. And Ezylryb, too."

"But why me? I don't get it. I'm not that special."

"Oh, but you are. You had the mark on you."

"The mark on me? What are you talking about?"

"Ezylryb spotted it. Nobody else could, of course. He got something special in that squinted eye of his. He knew you were special from the start. Ain't nothin' to be ashamed of. He's a tough one, Ezylryb. and smart! Smartest owl in the whole tree. He wouldn't just choose any old owl. He wanted you, mark or no mark. So you be all you can be, Soren."

_Be all you can be?_ What exactly did that mean? Especially when he wasn't even sure what he wanted to be, except not have Ezylryb as his ryb. Soren kept thinking of Bubo's words long after Madame Plonk's song had ended, and Twilight, Gylfie and Digger were asleep. Or at least he thought so. But those thoughts left his mind as his lethargy drew him into a deep sleep as the first sliver of light appeared over the horizon.

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><p><strong>Well then, another chapter out of the way. This one was mostly inspired by one of the chapters in Katheryn Lasky's books, which did not happen at all in the movie, as I'm sure you know. But I couldn't resist; Bubo was one of my favorite characters in the books, and he kind of reminded me of Rubius Hagrid from the Harry Potter franchise. I guess this also serves as to why Ezylryb sees something in Soren. Anywho, please review.<strong>

**P.S. I hope all of you have had a great holiday!**


	34. Fire!

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>Soren yawned as he stretched his legs after a good day's sleep. He chuckled at the sight of Digger still snoozing, his tongue hanging out in content. At the mouth of the hollow, he noticed Twilight and Gylfie looking at something off in the distance.<p>

"Great Glaux, that's a huge fire," Twilight muttered.

"I know, you can see the flames from here," Gylfie added.

Soren walked up beside them to see the tiniest sliver of the mainland. Around it, the afternoon sky seemed to almost dance as clouds of smoke rose into the sky.

"I feel sorry for any creature caught in there," Gylfie mumbled.

"Me too," said Twilight.

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><p>The owls got up and crept from their hollow out onto a branch and took off for the dining area. There was acorn porridge with steaming cups of milkberry tea, roasted Tree Slugs and braised mice. But as Soren headed for his usual spot with his friends, a voice scratched the air.<p>

"Over here, boy. Both weather and colliering chaws eat it raw with the hair still on." It was the unmistakable voice of Ezylryb. He turned around to see the grizzled Screech along with Bubo and Elvan.

"What?" Soren beaked the word in disbelief.

"You mean you haven't heard?" Otulissa was suddenly beside him.

"Heard what?" Soren said, not sure if he really wanted to know.

"We're having our first colliering exercise shortly."

"You've got to be kidding. We can't just fly into a forest fire."

"Oh, but we are" she said, trying to sound nervous herself.

"Gather round and eat up, young ones - and all the hair, mind you." It was the fat old blind snake named Octavia, who had served as Ezylryb's nest maid and companion for years. Unlike other blind snakes whose scales varied from rose to deep coral, Octavia was a pale greenish-blue. Soren took a spot next to Martin, the smart little Saw-whet who had asked the question in colliering practice about the need for fresh coals. Soren realized that there was more room a the table that he was accustomed to, for it looked as though that the other young owls had wilted from anxiety. Even Ruby, Otulissa, and Shard, seemed to shrink a bit. Tension hovered in the air.

Ezylryb fixed the youn owls in the amber light of his squinted eye. "Eat up, young'uns...every single little hair. You've forgotten what raw meat tastes like with the fur, as you call it. Poot here can tell you what happens when ya fly into a storm or fire with no ballast in your gizzard."

"No need, boss. If I told them what could happen, they'd never want to leave the tree again." Poot was a Boreal Owl, just like Grimble, though younger and more natural-colored.

"Now don't go scaring them, Poot," Octavia said as she waggled the end of her tail disapprovingly.

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><p>It was not even dark yet, but the weather, or in this case, colliering chaw owls were already on the takeof limb. They gazed nervously at the distant inferno.<p>

"now, anyone know why we are here?" Ezylryb turned to the colliers-in-training. A silence fell upon them. They pulled their feathers tight to their sides.

"Don't worry," Ezylryb chuckled. "We're not flying yet. Not until later. But I want you up here because you're going to see how fire changes thing - the wind, the clouds. You might need this knowledge later when you're flyin' into a storm. But right now, there's a fire burning over there across Hoolemere. A great fire." He bobbed out on the branch toward the water. "So later, we'll cross the sea. Then we'll fetch up on some high cliffs on the other side to get a better look. We're going to camp there for a day or to before we fly in."

For another hour they observed the unique behavior of the clouds on the far side of Hoolemere. During which they had learned about pressure differential, thermal inversions, and convective columns.

By the time the last sliver of sunlight was out, they were dismissed to take a short nap. They would be awakened at tween time, the time between the last drop of sun and the first shadows of twilight, and then take off across the Sea of Hoolemere.

"Are you nervous, Ruby?" Soren said as they made their way back up from the top limbs for their naps.

"I'd be a fool not to be," replied the rusty-feathered owl.

"But you fly so well."

"Not to mention," Martin added, "That both of you are twice my size."

"What's to fear the most?" Soren asked.

"Crowning," Shard answered quickly. "When the fire leaps from treetop to treetop. Flying through it is almost impossible. You can never tell where the dead falls might be."

"Technically, the fire does that" - Otulissa had caught up with them - "because the flames climb in a fuel ladder as they call it."

"Yeah, and think of me," said Martin. "I'm the one flying close to the ground for the smaller embers. One of those crowning things, and I'l get sucked straight up a fuel ladder."

"We all have to spend time ont he ground, not just you," Soren said. "It could happen to any of us. You don't have to be little." Martin cocked his head and blinked. He did not look convinced.

Altough they had yet to be in an actual forest fire, each member of the chaw had a type of coal or ember they were in charge of gathering. Ruby, being the best flier, would seek airborne embers that were dispersed to the highest parts of the thermal draft columns. Soren, shard, and Otulissa were assigned a midway position on various sides of the convection column. And little Martin was on ground work. But, indeed, they would all have to do a certain amount of groundwork.

Soren could not help but think about how different this flight across Hoolemere was from the time he had crossed it to the Great Tree nearly three months ago. He remembered how the blizzard had raged, how the entire world had turned had turned into a swirling white, and the sky and water had melted into one indistinguishable mass. Tonight the air was clear, the sea below calm with barely a white cap to ruffle the blueness. Seagulls dipped in the last rays of sunlight. The silvery glint of a fish leaping to escape a larger fish sometimes flashed above the water's surface. Yet as they drew closer to the opposite shore, the air did seem different. and altough owls, like most birds, did not have much of a sense of smell, the air seemed tinged with an acrid odor.

They landed on the ridge of some high cliffs. Ezylryb was already pointing with his three-taloned foot to some clouds just beyond where they perched. "We call them Ga'Hoole clouds. You know why?"

Otulissa raised a talon. "Because they are the shape of the seed found in Ga'Hoole's fruits."

"Right on the mark, missy," Ezylryb said.

Martin gave a little sigh. "She never stops, does she?"

It was clear that Martin was very nervous. More nervous than the others. Soren felt bad for him. He was the smallest owl in the chaw. It had to be scary. "Dont worry. You're going to be all right."

"That's kind of you sore, but you do realize I'm the first Saw-whet to ever join the colliering chaw?"

"They must think you're special," Soren reassured.

"But what if I'm not?" Martin said, a squeak desperation creeping into his voice. "I might become one of those airborne embers."

"All right now, we camp hear and wait until the fire is safe for penetration and retrieval," Ezylryb spoke up. Elvan and Bubo shall take over from that point. I'll remain here and watch the weather. Do as you're told and no one will get hurt. Ruby and Poot fly top-layer. Elvan and Otulissa at mid-layer. Below them will be soren and Shard, who will cover martin on the ground. Bubo and I will be ready if anyone needs help. You are to watch out for each other."

A little while later Ezylryb announced that they would be taking off for the next ridge. He had already flown several reconnaissance flights with Poot. He now arrived back on the ridge.

"There's a possible temperature inversion at the east end of the valley. We're not sending any owl down there. Temperature inversion trap smoke, and then do you know what can happen. when the smoke starts to rise?"

At first nobody answered, then the old Whiskered Screech spoke again. "I think Soren might have the answer,"

_How does he feel I have the answer? Is this what it means to be marked?_ But Soren didn't feel that he knew the answer. So he proceeded tentatively. "I think that it means when the smoke rises there could be a change in the air." Ezylryblooked straight at him. The light from his yellow eyes did not burn now but seemed to illuminate Soren's entire brain. He felt surer, more confident, but mostly he could now envision the invisible air. "The air would rise and turn then circulate upward and when that happens, I think the fire will burn harder."

"Exactly!" boomed Ezylryb. "And how do you know this, lad?"

"I see it in my mind. I can imagine it. I feel something, I think in my gizzard, about the movement of air and heat."

"Very well-put." Ezylryb turned to the other owls of the chaw. "There are many ways to learn - through books through practice, and through gizzuition."

"What's gizzuition?" Shard asked.

Ezylryb began to speak but kept his gaze on Soren. "It is a kind of thinking beyond the normal reasoning processes by which one immediately apprehends the truth, percieves and understands reality. It can't really be taught, but it can be developed by being extremely attentive and sensitive to the natural world."

Soren blinked. _Mabye I AM something in this ol owl's eyes._

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><p>It was now time to move to a ridge closer to the fire. The chaw lifted into the air, each owl flying close to his or her buddy. They were not halfway there when they saw the thick smoke, almost white against the night, rolling up, and then the tongues of flame dancing against the night. Ezylryb began a steep banking turn. Bubo and Poot arrived shortly with fresh voles and mice in their talons, some still squirming.<p>

"Eat light, with all the hair!" Ezylryb barked.

"Why does he always call it hair?" Matin said quietly.

"They say he come from the Northern Kingdoms, and they have odd ways of speaking," said Shard.

"But hair? What's hair?" Martin persisted.

"Well there's fur and there's feathers - mabye it's something in between," Shard guessed. "I think hair is the thick fur found on man, but only at the top of his head. Primates, too."

"Strange customs," Martin muttered.

* * *

><p>Less than an hour had passed when Bubo flew down from his higher perch. "Prepare to fly!"<p>

The owls stood on the thin granite lip of the ridge, their talons hooked over the edge. They spread their wings, and Bubo gave the command. "Now!" They lifted off - first Bubo and Elvan, then Ruby and Poot, next Otulissa, Shard, Soren, and Martin, and last, as a rear guard, Ezylryb.

They had not flow very far before they felt the heat on their bodies. They had anticipated the heat, but not the noise. A monster roar raged in their ears. Soren had never heard anything like it. Bubo and Elvan had prepared them for everything but this noise. They knew about the temperature, as well as the violent updrafts, the so-called cools spots, and the dead falls. They even knew about the most dreaded trick fire could pull - fire-blinking. This happened when a fire, raging with all its deadly beauty, actually transfixed an owl so that it couldn't fly. It went yeep and, with its wings locking, the owl lost its insticts to fly and plummeted to the ground. Or if the owl was already on the ground, it would simply stand with its wings hung still and motionless. But no one had told him about this noise.

"You'll get used to it," Elvan said. "It's always a shock at first. There's really no way to describe it." He had yo shout over the roar of the fire. Below, a sheet of flame lay flat against a hillside. Thermal drafts came up like slabs of rock. Martin, Shard, and Soren were sucked up at least twenty feet but as they passed the hill they felt a terrific coolness before dropping another thirty feet. Soren realized that it was only cool compared to the heat they had just flown through. Bubo now circled back. He had been flying far out in front. "good ember beds ahead. Perfect for all of you."

_So this was it,_ Soren thought. This was when they became true colliers. Just then, like a shooting star, something red whizzed by.

"Beautiful catch, Ruby," shouted Poot.

"What a natural that Short-eared Owl is!" Elvan gasped in amazement

Ruby began began to wing off toward the coal buckets that Bubo had set up on the ridge. The buckets made in his forge, with bits of kindling in the bottom already lit, would keep the coals hot.

"All right, Marin going in!" Elvan called out the command. The little owl began a tight spiraling plunge to the ground. "Cover him, Soren."

Soren would fly cover until Martin returned with a beakful of cinders, and then do the same with Shard. Elvan actually carried the very small cinder pot in his talons. Martin was supposed to not only collect cinders but report back on the larger coals that Soren, Shard and Otulissa were to retrieve.

Soren hovered above with a careful eye on his little friend. He was getting used to the noise. Indeed, not only was he getting used to it but within the thunderous roar he could seek out smaller sounds, like the sound of Martin's hearbeat, which grew rapidly as he descended. As Martin's heart raced, soren hoped with all his heart, gizzard, and soul that the little Saw-whet Owl would be all right. He could now see that Martin was on the ground.

He kept his focus on Matrin, who was now just a little smudge on the ground. a cloud of smoke temporarily obscured him and Soren flew lower. There he was. and he was coming up fast.

"He's comin' in loaded!" Bubo slid in next to Elvan.

Martin was with them not a second later. Cinders poured from his small beak, and he deposited his cargo into one of Elvan's buckets. His face was sooty but his eyes dance with a light as bright as the fire. "I did it! I did it!"

"That you did, young'un." Bubo flew up and tousled Martin's head feathers with his talons as they hovered.

"I can't wait to go back," Martin said.

"Hold on there," Elvan reminded. "First, your report."

"Embers the size of pellets down there."

"Excellent," Elvan said before flying off to confer with Buboand Ezylryb.

"Wow Soren, there's nothing like it. I wasn't scared at all. And it feels intoxicating to grab the cinders in your beak."

"That's what I've heard," Shard flew up. "But be careful, they say you can get drunk on them."

"Now's the time, Soren. You're going in! Elvan ordered.

Soren pitched into a spiraling downward twist. He felt himself buffeted by a sudden fierce updraft, but he had gathered enough speed to bore right through it. Then he was on the ground. Charred skeletons of trees clawed the night, and scattered about were the coals like hot glowing rocks. They were told to work quickly yet not rush. A steady pace is the best pace, Bubo had said. How had Martin, who was so little, done it and found cinders perfectly sized for his beak? Great Glaux, how embarrassing it would be, Soren thought, if he could not find any embers, and came back empty-beaked. Bubo and Elvan had tried to emphasize that no one should be embarrassedd. Oftentimes in the beginning a young collier did not find a suitable coal. there was no shame in returning empty-beaked. But Soren knew there was.

suddenly, Soren heard a terrible cracking sound. The flames turned a stand of trees just in front of him into one immense torch. He looked up and saw the crowns of other trees igniting. Crown fire! He began to feel a mighty pull on him. Was he going to be sucked up? The last thing on Soren remembered thinking about clearly was himself reaching for a pellet-sized ember just three feet away, and then he spread his wings...

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><p><strong>Well then, another much-anticipated chapter out of the way. Took me a lot of brainpower for this one. P.S. If you're a code Lyoko fan, and you decide to read my fanfic about it, please review. Don't forget to review on this one, too.<strong>


	35. A Coal in My Beak!

**Sorry for such a long delay. The midterms have been hell, but worth it. Glad to know more people are getting interested in my story. I wish I could say the same for my other fanfic, though.**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p><em>I have a coal in my beak! I have a coal in my beak! <em>The words pounded through Soren's head as he flew upward in ascending circles. He was not singed. He was not burning, and there was this little glowing thing in his beak that, indeed, seemed to flood his entire being with an extraordinary feeling. It was as if every one of his hollow bones, every feather shaft, brimmed with a transcendent power. Joy filled him, a joy that he had not felt since the first time he flew. But he got this coal was still a mystery to him. Banking to the right, he glided on the hot air toward the rocks where the buckets were kept. Martin was now beside him.

"That was awesome, Soren! I've never heard of any bird escaping from a crown fire draft. For a minute I thought you were dead by now."

"But what happened?" Soren asked. They were to stay on the ridge until the rest of the chaw returned.

"You mean you don't know?"

"Not exactly."

"You did a reverse loop to escape the pull with that fresh coal casting cinders. Bubo said he'd never seen anyone do that before. It was better flying than anything Ruby has ever done. It was spectacular."

"Well I, uh, wish I'd seen it," Soren said bashfully.

Otulissa flew in next with Poot and Shard. They both had full beaks and promptly dumped the live coals in the buckets. "I got one! I got one!" The Spotted Owl stopped to look at Soren's impressive coal, genuinely modest. "But, it's nothing compared to what you did, Soren."

"Thank you, Otulissa."

Ezylryb suddenly alighted on the rock next to them with a full bucket. Soren was secretly hoping that the old ryb had noticed and would congratulate him on the supposedly amazing stunt he had pulled off not too long ago. However the old Whiskered Screech busied himself with the new coals, sifting the coals around with his talons.

_Will I ever understand this owl? _Soren thought.

Ezylryb inspected the various coals before stopping at the bucket where Soren had put his own. The coal he held in his beak cast an eeire glow on his whiskered face. His amber eyes appeared red. "I hear you did a fair night's work," he mumbled through his beakfull. "Magnificent, perhaps; well done, boy." He dropped the coal in the bucket and flew off to confer with Poot.

* * *

><p>They began their homeward journey with just an hour to spare before First Light. "Dont' worry about crows now," Elvan said. "They never come near when we're carryig live coals."<p>

It was abeautiful time to fly. The air grew fresher and a light wind now ruffled the water into lacy crests. Even now, with the coals and cinders tame in the buckets, their power seemed to almost reach out to them. Fire, of course, was perhaps the most important element that made the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole different that anything else in the natural world. It made is residents more than a community or a gathering of owls. It made them a fellowship. And if they were to rise each night into the blackness and perform noble deeds, it was perhaps the fire that helped them do this: fire punched up the fierce heats with Bubo's bellows for forging metal into weapons; fire tamed into candle flames for reading and learning. And here these young owls of the chaw, just barely finished with being owlets themselves, were flying back across the Sea of Hoolemere with this precious element. No wonder they felt so powerful.

They arrived shortly after daybreak, their faces smudged and their beaks sooty black. But they were welcomed as heroes. The coals were delivered to Bubo's forge and the chaw was honored with a wonderful banquet. For the first time since he had arrived, Soren felt confident in himself.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the short chapter: I'm still trying to figure out how to wedge all of this between the storyline of the movie. In the meantime, I shall be revising my second fanfic (sigh) again. Anyway, I hope you liked it. Please review.<strong>


	36. Mrs Plithiver's Dilemma

**As you may find out later on, I have added a different plot to this chapter. Enjoy.**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>"Flying upside down!" Primrose gasped. "How do you do that? It's impossible."<p>

"It's not as hard as you think," Soren said excitedly. "It really doesn't take that much skill. It's kind of like when you first start to fly. You just have to sort of believe you can do it."

"Do you think a big burly Gray like me could do it?" Twilight asked, very inetrested.

"Sure, if the conditions are right. See, that's the problem - you can't try it until absolutely have to."

"What do you mean 'if I absolutely have to'?" Twilight said. "You're telling me that I shouldn't fly upside down right now if I wanted to? Now I've done a lot but..." It was hard for Twilight to admit that anyone had seen or experienced something he had not.

Gylfie and Soren looked at each other and blinked in amazement. Twilight did brag, but he didn't have that sense of superiority like Otulissa. Still, he was constantly getting reprimanded in his chaw practices for challenging the rybs. Sometimes he could be so annoying (even without his lute) but, in spite of this, he was a "good soul", as Mrs. P. would have put it. There was never an owl more fiercely loyal than Twilight. As Digger often said, "He makes the best friend and worst enemy."

"Well," Soren stood up. "I'm headed for the library now - our assignments is to read about the structure of gales, blizzards and hurricanes, in case one happens unexpectedly. And we'll be having a test soon."

"A flying test or book test?" Gylfie asked.

"Book test." With that, Soren was already making his way into the air.

Mrs. Plithiver missed her chance to say goodbye. It was then that Soren realized that the old blind snake had barely said a word during the entire meal. This was most unusual, especially since he had come back so excited from the colliering chaw. Normally, she would have been thrilled over Soren's enthusiasm. He hoped nothing was the matter. If there was time before good light, he would go visit her.

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><p>Soren flew up to the library humming the last verse of Madame Plonk's good light song. <em>How quickly life changes, <em>he thought. It was only yesterday that he had flown with a live coal in his beak, having not a concious thought in his mind. And now he was a member of the best of the best of the chaws.

Upon entering the library he saw Ezylryb in his usual spot with a pile of dried caterpillars. He then found Ruby hunched over book titled _Weather Systems and Their Structure, _by Ezekiel, a ryb who had passed on long before the young Barn Owl had arrived at the tree.

"Oh, for Glaux's sake!" a very feminine voice nearly shouted in fursturation. Soren looked to see a young female Barn Owl, around his age, looking over a book with stress written all over her face.

"What's wrong?" Soren came up, churring lightly over this owl's brash language.

"If anything, it's me. I can barely read these words," the owl humphed. Soren looked at the cover of the book she was reading. It was one of the Ga'Hoolian legends.

"The Ga'Hoolian Legends?"

"Oh, yes. I've always known them by heart, but I've always wanted to read them as well," she said.

"You can't read?" Soren asked, confused.

"Well I did arriver here only days ago. I can't say I've brushed up on it."

"Oh, sorry. By the way, I'm Soren."

The female Barn Owl smiled. "My name's Pellimore, or Pelli for short."

"Nice to meet you," said Soren, who felt a slight tingling.

"Likewise," Pelli returned.

"Anyway, before you can read, you'll have to learn your alphabet."

"Alphabet?"

"You know; the symbols and shapes for letters that make up written words," Soren fought back the urge to laugh.

"Oh yeah," Pelli said, feeling embaressed. Soren had retrieved a scroll listing the alphabetical letters along with a blank piece of parchment.

"Alright then; this first symbol is 'A'. Try to write it out." Pelli dipped a quill in a cup of ink and tried to copy what she saw. She succeeded, albeit slightly sloppy, but adequate. This went on for another twenty five letters, in both upper and lower case, until Soren's new friend has mastered her letters.

"Great job," Soren said. "Now let's try writing your name. I'll demonstrate with mine." Pelli passed the quill to him and wrote S-o-r-e-n as plainly as possible, so a not to show off. Giving the quill back to Pelli, she drew a deep breath and looked to Soren.

"Could you help me a little?"

"Sure." Soren reached over and her talon in his. Together they slowly traced P-e-l-l-i-m-o-r-e on the parchment below Soren's name. Then he let go and let her write P-e-l-l-i on her own.

"Wow. I wrote my own name. Thank you, Soren," Pelli said, an awkward feeling creeping up on her.

"No problem. It was my pleasure."

"Well I have to get going, I still have chaw evaluations to do. Perhaps we can meet again sometime," Pelli said as she maid her way to the library's entrance.

"That would be nice," Soren returned. When Pelli was gone, Soren felt the odd feeling leave him. Wanting to focus on other things, he began to browse the many books on the shelves; written by all sorts of birds, beasts, and men. By sheer luck he spotted _The Battle of the Ice Claws_, his favorite book on Ga'Hoole. He remembered all the times his father would read it to him, along with the other legends. Forcing the homesick feeling to the back of his brain, the young owl took the book to a reading post. As he went through it word by word, however, his mind began to paint a horrific and gloom-filled picture.

_We watched as the young Guardian lay face up on the ice flow, unable to do a single thing to help him. The blood pooled around him, dyeing the snow a deep crimson, melting slightly at its heat. His whole torso, completely torn open, heaved up and down at an increasingly slower rate. I tried to look away as the life began to fade from his amber eyes._

_~ Lyze of Kiel; day two of the battle._

Soren sighed and lazily tried to flip the next page. Not once in his entire life, had he heard of such carnage in this book. It only took him a second to realize that his father had probably skipped all of this bloody violence when reciting it. Was war really like this? Was heorism no different than senseless killing?

At that moment he looked up to see Ezylryb just a foot away, staring down on him and the book from a higher perch. "Doing some wee hour's reading, eh?"

"Yeah," Soren said with little enthusiasm. "It's _The Battle of the Ice Claws_. It was my Da's favorite story...He used to read it to me all the time."

"Well your Da had good taste in authors," Ezylryb smirked. "Are _you_ enjoying it?" The old Screech then reached under his right wing with his beak and began to vigorously preen himself.

The young Barn Owl said, "Honestly, it's not at all like my Da told it."

"Oh? How did he tell it?" Ezylryb inquired, his interest peaked, but continued to tend his feathers.

"Well, he always made it seem so...heroic...like a great victory. But these chronicles, the battle just sounds like..."

"Like Hagsmire?" Ezylryb finally turned to look his student in the eye. Soren couldn't find the right words. The Whiskered Screech had already taken them right out of his beak.

"Come on boy, buck up; war is war, and I guess it's not your field," Ezylryb turned the pages of the book to find a dead centipede serving as a bookmark. "But I can tell you already have a talent for flying; you really know your gizzard. And you taught Ruby quite a few things back there. But when the time comes, I'm going to teach how to _really_ fly." He grabbed the arthropod in his deformed foot and munched its head right off.

* * *

><p>"Well, I just don't know. I don't think I'm sure about anything right now." Soren stopped just outside the small hollow that Mrs. P. shared with the two other Nest Snakes. It was the sadness in Mrs. P.'s voice that really stopped him. She never sounded this way. She was always so positive and full of hope. He listened for a few moments.<p>

"The Harp Guild is a most prestigious honor and I think it is your destiny to join," another snake said. "You know, the way the owls feel things in their gizzards. Now, I know we don't have them, but even so."

"Don't say things like that." Mrs. P. sounded slightly shocked by the suggestion. "It is presumptuous of us us to even think of ourselves as anything like the noble birds. We are not of their station." Now she was sounding like herself again. Mrs. P. did not have feelings of inferiority; she felt she was the best nest-maid snake ever, but she would never presume, as she said, to think she shared anything with owls. Her duty in life was to serve them, and to serve them well was a noble task in itself.

"But Horace," the snake continued, addressing Mrs. P. by her first name, "you must have some preference for a guild."

"Oh, it is more than a preference. When we went for our tour of the guilds, I knew immediately that the harp was for me. I remember that when I slipped through the strings from one note to another, climbing the scales, leaping octaves, the vibrations never left me. And the very best part was to - oh, how shall I explain it - weave the music into Madame Plonk's voice. The sound of that harp and Madame Plonk's voice made something so large and splendid."

Soren blinked. Mrs. P., he thought, had something much better than a gizzard.

"I must be off now," the other Nest Snake said cheerily. "Have to drop in on Octavia, bring her a well-seasoned milkberry. She does love them so and, she keeps Madame Plonk's and Ezylryb's hollows so tidey. Never can hurt, can it? Ta-ta." And she slithered out of the hollow.

Soren decided to skip out on visiting Mrs. P. this thime. he knew what he had to do. He must "drop by" Madame Plonk's, and tell her that here was a very special snake, a snake that had something even finer than a gizzard, a snake of the highest - what was the word? - "Sensibilities, artistic sensibilities."

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><p><strong>Well another revised chapter. I hope you noticed the significant change to this one (wink,wink). Please review.<strong>


	37. A Visit to Madame Plonk

**A thousand pardons for the inconveinant delay. I've been neck deep in a butt-load of schoolwork and haven't had the time to work on this. But enough chit-chat; read on!**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>"You see, Madame Plonk, I know that perhaps this is not proper - me coming to you this way." Soren could hardly keep his mind on what he was saying, as he had never seen a hollow like this one in his life. The air spun with colored light from the whirlyglasses that hung from the ceiling and sometimes jutted out from the walls, suspended on twigs jammed into the cracks. There were several openings through which the light poured. Peices of cloth embroided with beautiful designs and one little niche spilled over with strands of luminous beads. Indeed, the hollow seemed to swirl with color. And in the middle of all this color there was a dazzling whiteness - Madame Plonk.<p>

Soren gulped and tried to keep his eyes from straying from that whiteness. "But I just know that Mrs. P. is rather shy and would never dare."

"Mrs. P.?" Madame Plonk broke in. "I don't believe I know this snake."

"She came with me ma'am. She's my family's old Nest-maid Snake."

"Oh, and you say she wants to be in the harp guild?"

"Yes, ma'am." Soren thought he sounded so stupid. _Who cares?_ he thought. He was here for Mrs. P.. She wanted this so much. Then it was as if Madame Plonk nearly took his next thought right out of his head.

"But wanting is one thing. One cannot merely want."

"Yes, yes, just because you want something doesn't mean it should always happen.

Madame Plonk blinked and nodded. "very wise, young'un. But tell me - why do you think she, this Mrs. P. as you call her, wants it?"

An idea popped into Soren's head. "You know," he began thoughfully, "some snakes might want it just because it is thought of as the most important guild, one for snakes who have served in nests of very old, distinguished failies. But I don't think that is why Mrs. P. wants it."

"No?" Madame Plonk seemed surprised.

Soren had a dreadful feeling that he had said something wrong. He took a deep breath. There was no backing out of it now. "No, I don't think she gives two pellets about that kind of thing."

Madame Plonk blinked.

_She's laughing at me,_ Soren thought. But he continued. "I think the want to join this guild not because it's the most important but because it's the most artistic."

The Snowy Owl looked intrigued. "That's very interesting. Now what do you mean by artistic, boy?"

_Oh, dear,_ Soren thought. It was as if his gizzard had just dropped out of him. He had no idea what he meant by artistic. But he knew that what he had said was right in some way.

Madame Plonk waited.

Soren continued. "When Mrs. P. spoke about music she said when she visited the great harp, she tried to weave the notes not just through the strings of the harp but into _your_ voice. So that together the sound of the harp and the sound of your voice made something that she called splendid and grand. Well, I think that's what she means to be an artist."

There was silence in the apartment. And then Madame Plonk sighed deeply and reached for a hankie made by the lacemakers' guild. She blew her beak and dabbed her eyes. "You are a most unusual Barn Owl." Soren did not know if that was good or bad. "Now I think you must go. It is almost time for Evensong. So, go along. I hear you're doing quite well with your double chaw." Soren was about to ask how she knew about that but then remembered that Octavia took care of both Madame Plonk's and Ezylryb's nests. "Now fly along."

"Yes, yes, thank you for your time, Madame Plonk," Soren said, backing out of the entrance.

"Octavia!" Madame Plonk called as soon a Soren had left. "Octavia, come in here immediately."

The fat old turqoise nest snake slithered in from a branch where she had hung herself just outside the apartment.

"Did you hear that just now?"

"Yes, ma'am. I think we now have ourselves a G-flat!"

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><p>It was nearing midnight at St. Aegolius, and the Pure Ones had gathered to hear their leader speak. Tonight, Metalbeak perched atop his great throne, with Nyra proudly at his side. Her creamy white face was highlighted by the illuminating light of the full moon, making her all the more beautiful. In fact her face resembled the moon itself, seeing as she had hatched on a night like this, one of the many things he loved about her. In return, she always found herself mezmorized by her mate's shiny, silvery mask. Sure Metalbeak was older - much older, and of a different species, but she loved him more than any other soul in the world. To him, Nyra was more beautiful and pure than any creature could ever hope to be. He found her most striking feature to be her white face: It reminded him so much of the full moon that was out tonight. In fact, she had been born on a night like this. According to the legends of Ga'Hoole, an owl hatched under the full moon would recieve a curse. In some cases a passionate goodness, in others a terrible evil. This notion was completely absent from their minds as they gazed down upon their loyal Tytos, and non-Tytos, Who stood in collums on the rocky floor below. From their angle, they could only see the silhouettes of the two owls through the glare of Earth's lunar body.<p>

Above, the bats clung to the ceiling, their eyeshine mimicking the stars. The chieftains of both the Vampire Bat and Flying Fox clans hung close to the High Tyto's throne, just out of sight. On a higher ledge, Kludd stood firm and attentive, making sure Eglantine didn't leave his side. The poor little owlet had only made slight adjustments to her new lifestyle. While she accepted the Pure Ones' food, she was still frightened by everything around her and how they treated the "lesser" species. She was now almost fully fledged, just about ready to fly. Kludd often tried to ignore how much she now reminded him of their own mother.

"My soldier...My _sons_," Metalbeak began, "Many of you have heard of me in late-night whisperings, but I assure you, I am no myth. I am real, and I stand be fore you with one simple truth; " he seemed to be on the verge of outburst, "The _strong_ shall rule the _weak_."

A low chorus of mummers in agreement, echoed throughout the cave.

"Long ago, I was viciously attacked the coward Lyze of Kiel, for defending that truth," Metalbeak almost spat, before gesturing to his gleaming head ornament. "Now I wear this mask to conceal my scars, but the metal is _strong_. It is a symbol of the Pure Ones' strength and resolve."

As Eglantine cowared, she noticed that Kludd was becoming more and more fixated as Metalbeak continued to speak.

"It is time to set a fire that will consume the owl kingdoms, and take back, what is rightfully ours! Because we are Tytos! We are Pure Ones! And I am **METALBEAK!**" He raised his wings high in the air, and the owls below began to stomp their talons and chant his name.

As Eglantine cowared, she noticed that Kludd was doing the exact same thing. Now something had to be done this. She had to let Kludd know that she just wanted to go home and be with the rest of he family again. But she knew better than to be too assertive under these circumstances.

"Uh, Kludd? Kludd?" Eglantine almost whispered. The larger Barn Owl snapped out of his trance and turned to her. "I miss Mum and Da. I'm scared."

"Oh, don't be. You're with me now," Kludd tried to sooth as he leaned in close to her. "Eglantine, this is our new home now. They _really_ appreciate us here," He sounded quite happy.

"Kludd, please. Can we just go find Soren?"

"Hey, hey!" Kludd's mood suddenly shifted to a bitter tone. "Forget about Soren. Soren's weak; we're Tytos." He looked up to see Nyra's beautiful form circling in the air to land by them, and his voice became slightly sinister. "Pure Ones."

"Kludd, I promise I won't ell anyone what you're doing," Eglantine began to beg as Nyra alighted behind her brother. "I just wanna go home."

"All right, Eg," he sighed.

"So we can go? When?"

"Tomorrow," Kludd quickly snapped his head around to look at Nyra, who simply smiled. "But first, tonight...just sleep" He took a few step back, his words sadistic. Eglantine couldn't help but feel very afraid as she felt herself enveloped by the glare of the moon...

**Done! We now reach a turning point in our story! Until next time, you know the drill. Peace out!**


	38. Weather Chaw

**I understand that it's been quite a while since you had another chapter to read, and I apologize. This is because I've been going back to re-edit the story a tad bit, so don't be surprised if you see a few different things now and again. But anyway, please enjoy.**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. They belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner Bros._

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><p>Ezylryb perched on a limb at the very top of the Great Ga'Hoole Tree and squinted into the distance. He had been here for the last two nights almost continuously with Poot by his side. They were studying the cloud behavior on the far side of Hoolemere. A huge black cloud was headed straight for the tree.<p>

"Bring the chaw up," he ordered tersely. "There's enough for them to observe."

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><p>"What! What!" Soren yawned sleepily as Poot shook him awake. "It's the late afternoon. We're supposed to be asleep."<p>

"not now, young'un. Important lesson, top of the tree. Cap wants you there now. Quick-o!"

_What could it be?_ Soren thought. Poot only called Ezylryb "Cap" when they were on a flight mission. But there wasn't any bad weather. It was a calm, perfectly clear day. It was the time of the golden rain, when the strands of Ga'Hoole's milkberries that hung from the limbs turned a rich yellow.

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><p>By the time Soren got to the top of the limb, the others had assembled - albeit sleepily. Martin was yawning into the setting sun, but Otulissa was alert and ready to ask and answer any question. Ruby yarped her afternoon pellet and Shard looked to Soren as if he might pitch forward off the branch.<p>

"We take off upwind, naturally." Although Soren was not sure in this gale which way upwind even was. "We're going to fly straight out over the Sea of Hoolemere. Try to find the main part of the gale." Ezylryb spoke in short snappish sentences. "Now listen up. Here's what you need to know about a gale, or any storm, really - except for hurricanes - they be a little different with their eyes and all. But what you got in a gale, or storm, is a gutter. That's the main trough where the wind runs its punch through. It's at the center. It isn't like the eye of the hurricane. Not nearly as dangerous. Then on either side of the gutter you've got the scuppers. That's where the edge of the winds from the gutter spills over. Then at the very outside edge you've got your swillages - more about them later. I fly point. Poot flies what we call an upwind scupper. You all follow behind. Do what you're told. Any questions?"

The owls were in no mood to ask any questions at this time. But apart from being nervous, the all felt another mutual feeling; excitement. Soren for one, was quite anxious. But how could he be excited when he was scared of death? Then again, how could he have been bored colliering, when there was fire all around him? If this was being all one could be, as bubo had told him, he certainly had a lot of confusing feelings.

And then, suddenly, with an enormous scream, the old Whiskered Screech Owl spread his wings and lifted into the rain-spun twilight.

They flew straight out over the Sea of Hoolemere. The storm was so fierce and the torrents of rain so storng they could barely see the water. Thunder and lightning raged on above, and not a single star could be seen. The sound of crashing waves pummeled their ears. A few Flying Fish could be seen jumping in and out of the sea, which seemed to reach out for them. Otulissa was flying near Soren.

"This is madness!" the Spotted Owl had to yell, as it was the only way they could here each other.

"How?" Soren called back.

"What ryb carelessly drags his chaw into a freak storm like this without any warning beforewing?"

"I don't think he had much choice! Ezylryb may be smart, but he probably can't predict sudden changes in weather!"

At this point, both owls had to drop the conversation, requiring all of their concentration to keep aloft. The winds seemed to come from every direction. They were constantly buffeted by confused drafts and rain water. Martin, the little Saw-whet, was a tumbling blur ahead of them. He had been instructed, as the smallest, to fly behind the larger owls' wakes for better control.

One minute the owls might be bouyed up several hundred feet and the next they might fly into a dead fall, a kind of hole in the wind, and drop. And of course, there was the cold air and rain. It was amazing that the owls, in nearly drenched feathers, could even fly at all in this waether. Major preening would be needed after this endeavor. Constantly, Soren was having to use his nyctitating membrane over his eyes keep out debris and maintain clear vision. Great Glaux, he hoped he wear it out in these conditions. It now seemed like little wonder why Ezylryb squinted. A lifetime of flying into this stuff would be enough to shred any owl's eyelids.

"What's he doing over there?" Soren asked aloud when he spotted Ezylryb having broken formation to fly by a small flock of birds that had just appeared of starboard.

"He's talking with seagulls!" Shard suddenly flew up to Soren's port side.

"Why?"

"Probably to exchange a wet-poop joke or two! They say Ezylryb loves 'em, and seagulls always know the best ones!" From behind, Soren thought he could hear Otulissa scoff in disgust.

"Hoooh-hah!" Poot let out an enormous, raucous hoot. "Here we go, mates! Climbing the baggywrinkles and then straight into the gutter! Follow us!" The baggywrinkles were the shredded air currents that lay between the scuppers and the gutter. A power thrust was required to get over them. Soren banked and followed Poot. Martin flew between them. Ruby was just ahead of him.

"Now _this _is the way to learn!" Ezylryb called with joy as he rejoined the chaw. He began making all sorts of flip, rolls, and bounces through the air as he spoke. He was clearly enjoying this more than anyone else.

"Oh yes, _this_ is exactly how I wanted to learn; in a MONSOON!" Martin yelled with sarcasm.

Ezylryb began to zip through the formation, talking to each owl at different intervals. "The gutters form in different ways, you see; from the sky to the ocean! You can't fight 'em, you have to _feel_ 'em with your gizzards!"

_How in Glaux's name do tyou do that? _the question pounded in Soren's head. At this point a gutter suddenly began to form right before soren's eyes. The rain drops began to swirl around eachother, as if a whirlpool had begun to form in middair. I not for the wind, he would have thought it to be some kind of supernatural force at work. Rain that defied gravity; who knew?

"You see that one? Soren! It's right there in front of you!" he heard Ezylryb call out to him. "Use your gizzard, boy! Fly inside!"

Though frightened, Soren tried to do as he was told. For the moment all he could think of was focussing on exactly how to do this, but his mind raced with so many thoughts at once. How was one supposed make it through here without falling into the sea or losing a wing, if they trusted only their gizzard? _Trust my gizzard. Trust my gizzard._ Soren repeated in his head. He then took a deep breath and close his eyes. Suddenly, all thoughts left his brain entirely. He reopened his eyes, and he could no longer feel the rain on his feathers, or the cold air around him. He even ignored the rain drop that hit him in the right eye.

He angled his wings and tail feathers to the right position, and the rest was up to the wind of the gutter. He was soon carried along the spiral like a regular thermal draft. He close his eyes once again as he found himself flying upside down. Descending further into the spiral, he suddenly had the thought to pay attention to his position. Then it happened: Soren felt the wind current pull him down int the drop, straight towards Shard. He collided with the Great Horned, who quickly recovered with his larger size and mass, but Soren continued downward. He could barely register the cries of distress from the chaw as he began falling, the wind and rain buffeting his body. His wings couldn't catch the air with so many currents criss-crossing each other at once. He could swear he was screaming as he neared the water when he felt a quick jolt from below. He body began spinning until his flapping wings snagged a lower air current and he began messily hovering.

"Owl, come to my hollow, now. Class is dismissed," Ezylryb said with a very aggrevated tone as he flew by him. The old Whiskered Screech didn't need to yell, as Soren's adrenaline still lingered in his system from flying through the gutter. Now he felt the axiety return as he and the chaw, tired and nervous themselves, wheeled around to return to the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole.

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><p><strong>So sorry for the delay (again). I'll be double checking and changing things around in the previous chapters for the time being. I will also be redoing the second library scene with Ruby, replacing her with Pelliomore, or Pelli. For those of you who don't know, Pelli was a Barn Owl who became Soren's mate later in the book series. I plan to give her the same thing that Soren and Otulissa had in the movie, but with a little more interaction. Stay tuned, my friends!<strong>


	39. Rusty Claws

**Hello again. So so so sorry for the wait. I've been adding changes and a few more chapters to other parts of the story. Spot them if you can. As you were...**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series_

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><p>Soren, still cold from his flight lesson, shivered as he stood in front of Ezylryb's fire that sat in the center of his hollow. The old bird was mumbling something to himself as he stoked the coals with an old battle claw. Taking in his surroundings, Soren saw piles of paper, charts, maps, and infinate numbers of gizmos that Ezylryb had to help him interpret weather patterns. There was a vial of sand that hung outside for registering the moisture in the air, and a vial of quicksilver to gauge atmospheric pressure changes. There were at least twenty different wind indicators that used feathers sometimes plucked from his own body, but it was usually a molted one from some very young owl who had just shed his down.<p>

The young owl still felt nervous from his flop during weather interpretation class. Since their return to the tree, Ezylryb had appeared to be in a foul mood. Was he that upset with Soren? Would he recieve a flint mop for this? Flint mops were the only form of punishment in the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole; owls were never struck, hit, bitten, locked up, or given less food, for any reason. Boron and Barran did not believe in taking away privileges such as attending festivities either. What they did believe in was the flint mop. Flint stone was the most valuable tool the owls of Ga'Hoole had. It was with their flint stones that they ignited their fires, a technique picked up from man during the time of Hoole's kingship. To say something flinty or had flint meant it had real worth. Therefore to be a flint mopper was to be someone who scorned the value of soemthing, and if so, were required to pay back what was taken away, usually in the form of some kind of difficult chore. Thus the term came to be known as a "flint mop". Twilight often recieved flint mops from Dewlap, the Burrowing Owl ryb of Ga'Hoology. All owls, whatever their chaws, were required to take classes for this subject for the future care of the tree.

Right now, Soren was hoping that he would recieve no flint mops of any kind, and it wouldn't hurt to try to explain himself. "I-I don't know what happened." Ezylryb said nothing, but rather hopped over to a large book, and began to write something down in it.

"I mean we flew a great way out here," Soren continued, "and it was _nothing_ like that."

"You've got no reason to be worried, boy," Ezylryb finally spoke. "I confess; I guided you into that gutter on purpose. I wanted to test your gizzard. You were exemplary."

Soren was, to say the least, baffled. "Exemplary? No, no, I nearly had my wings ripped off. I mean, my head was telling me to do one thing, while my gizzard was telling me to do another."

"And you trusted your head," said Ezylryb, as he stamped a symbol on the on of the book's open pages. "That's when you failed."

Soren then noticed something very peculiar about the newly formed red symbol. It was circular, with a strange letter placed in the middle. The letter was Krakish, the language spoken in the Northern Kingdoms from where Ezylryb supposedly grew up. Soren had seen it before, but he couldn't quite remember until...that was it; T_he Battle of the Ice Claws_. When he was in the library, after spending time with Pelli; he had seen it when he was reading the Great Tree's copy. It was Ezylryb's signature.

"Is that your mark?"

"What, this? Yes."

"So..._you _wrote _The Battle of the Ice Claws_?"

"I...I think so," Ezylryb said. "Actually yes, I did." He closed the book and flew up to a rack from which several other sources of reading material hung.

"Where you there?" Soren asked, excited.

"Yes," the wheather chaw ryb answered calmly.

"As a scribe?"

"Um, well no, as a soldier. Or as you could say,_ leader_ of all the soldiers."

Soren's entire world melted away save for Ezylryb. Could it be? No, it couldn't, yet it probably was. Either he had gone mad, or a living legend now stood before him. "You...you're...Lyze of Kiel?"

Ezylryb flew over to a small microscope, and began to study the surface of a small rock that lay beneath it. "Uh, yes; I am," he said nonchalantly.

Soren felt like his gizzard had come alive and was doing some sort of dance inside his body. This was amazing, but somehow Soren felt...dissapointed. "_You're_ Lyze of Kiel?"

"Yes, don't wear it out," Ezylryb, or rather, Lyze, said. He noticed soren looking down at the old battle claw that he had previously used to tend his fire. Just like his own left foot, it too was missing a digit. "That old thing? It's only good for gathering coals now." His voice had become bitter.

"Well why go by Ezylryb?" Soren asked, his excitement waning.

"All the owls in the tree know who I am."

"But - "

"My days as Lyze are well behind me. That battle is a distant memory. So is Surtr, and his Pure Ones. Except for young owl like you." Ezylryb descendent back down next to Soren to put out several of the candles that still flickered.

"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Soren.

"What difference does it make what I call myself?"

"Lyze of Kiel was my hero," Soren said, now completely deflated.

Ezylryb snuffed. "Well fany it must be finding your hero to be real, not a myth."

"It's just - "

This time, Ezylryb spun around. "Well what did you expect? Some Barn Owl with gleaming armor and battle claws, the moon rising behind him?" He came very close to Soren's face, who had to take a few steps back. "Well _this_ is what it looks like when you've actually fought in battle," he showed his deformed foot, "it's not glorious, it's not beautiful, and it's not even heroic; it's merely doing what's right. And doing it again and again. Even if some day you look like _this._" Ezylryb gave Soren a glare with his squinted eye, which actually had a scar running across the lid that he hadn't noticed before.

The old ryb made his way to the hollow's entrance, before turning his head around. "I suggest you get ready for twixt time. The last meals are being served, and I have business to attend to elsewhere. I think it would be best that you wouldn't be here when I return." Then he was gone.

Soren stood in the dim hollow, feeling completely crushed. It felt like everything he had grown up on, everything he ever dreamed of, was a lie. How could one owl just change his whole perspective on glory, honor, and whatever else the Guardians upheld? And worse still, it was from his own idol, Lyse of Kiel. As he walked to the mouth of the hollow, with his wings dragging and his head held low, he heard scales scraping against bark, and Octavia slithered in.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Lyze can be quite stoic at times when it comes to his past."

"You were eavesdropping?"

"Oh goodness, no. I could sense what was happening. Lyze and I have always had a strong bond. I can tell when he is feeling out of place."

"Huh, that's good. You know me and my own nest maid have that kind of bond too."

Octavia chuckled. "Oh I'm not Lyze's nest maid, young'un. I was his partner in war. And I was with him that day at the Ice Claws."

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><p><strong>Again, sorry for the long wait; I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter features a backstory for Lyze and Octavia. Please review.<strong>


	40. Octavia Speaks

**Well I'm back again. Now we delve into Ezylryb's past. Enjoy.**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. They belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner bros._

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><p>"You mean you were there...<em>with<em> him?" Soren asked.

Octavia nodded her eyeless head. "Yes dear, I was."

"But," Soren tried to piece things together, "how did you two meet? Was it after you first came here to the tree?"

"Well no," said Octavia. "Lyze and I were not residents of the Great Tree until after our triumph over the Pure Ones. Even before then, we had been in battle together. To start off, Lyze was born on the Stormfast Island, on the Bay of Kiel, in the Everwinter Sea. The Northern Kingdoms are harsh and unforgiving places, with bitter cold, freezing water, and menageries of vicious arctic predators. Like many animals there, Lyze was groomed into a warrior from the moment he had hatched. His father, his mother, his grandparents, his great- and great-great-grandparents were all superb soldiers. Every single one of them had been a commander in the air artillery division of the Stormfast Army. They were smart, too; knew how to fight with their minds, not just their talons. But it was soon apparent after Lyze first took to the wing, that he was an extraordinary Whiskered Screech Owl. He was morebrilliant than either of his siblings, which was later to cause trouble in the nest. He later became the youngest commander of his artillery division. Lyze was widely respected by all creatures, even a colony of men that resided on the other side of the sea. Though he couldn't speak a word in their tongue, he was their friend all the same."

Soren stood there, speechless.

"Now you are probably wondering where I came in. Well, on the island of Stormfast there were, of course, nest-maid snakes. Ones that you are most familiar with. But there was another breed of snake called Kielians, and they were not blind at all. They didn't have rosy scales, but the blue-green ones like my own. I am a Kielian Snake. We are known for our own industry and wit. More muscular than the Blind Snakes and extremely supple.

Octavia paused for a moment. "This isn't all fat, you know!" She twisted her head around and patted her body with it. "Lots of muscle there. In any case, we could get into places that were unreachable to blind snakes and, because of our strength, we could actually dig holes, be it on the ground or in a tree. And yes, our fangs were as effective as a woodpecker's beak."

Soren froze as two long fangs shot from her mouth.

"Scary, aren't they?" She returned to her normal composure. "It was Lyze who first thought of using us in battle. We were both about the same age. My parents knew his parents, but there wasn't much mingling between snakes and owls on Stormfast in general. You have to understand that creatures in the Northern Kingdoms aren't really sociable types. They stick to themselves. It's such a harsh world that, if you let your guard down, you could end up as someone else's meal.

"I was a problem snake. A problem as a young'un, and it only grew worse as I grew older. I loved fooling around, having fun, getting into trouble. I don't mind telling you I was a terrible flirt in those days, always trying to entice the young males around me. it seems the whole industry thing passed me by. I can remember my mother saying once that if she and Pa had bred a chipmunk. Chipmunks are silly, incredibly irresponsible, frivolous creatures. I was driving my parents to near distraction by the time was an adolescent. Now snakes aren't really parental creatures, Soren. But my species work in large groups, so one is never far from their family. It was just around the time that Lyze was flying over the rocky crag where I was sunning myself, and when my mither was ranting to me. Lyze heard her from above. He had just conjured the idea for a stealth force of Kielian Snakes. He alighted down and said, 'Giver her to me, ma'am, and she'll never have another lazy day again. i'll turn her into a crack soldier'. I, of course, was horrified by the idea. But before I knew what had happened, I was in his talons being flown off to a training camp. The only compensation was that there were some handsome male Kielian Snakes. But there was never a chance for experimenting, and after a day's training I wans't fit for anything but sleep.

"Well, you might not believe it, but I turned into a pretty fair soldier for the stealth force. I think it was Lyze who made me, to tell you the truth. That owl could inspire anybody."

Soren felt a twinge in his gizzard. _how true it is,_ he thought, and remembered his times flying with Ezylryb through forest fires, gales, and the worst of storms.

"Lyse took a mate shortly after I came into training. In a sense, that was when his troubles with both his brother and the Pure Ones really began. His brother, a seemingly quite, gentle owl named Ifghar, had fancied Lyze's mate, but she did not return his feelings. while Ifghar had seen her first, it was Lyze that had stolen her heart. He hated him from that moment on. Meanwhile trouble began to brew in the Souther Kingdoms. There had been talk of great fires spreading and armies of Tyto owls mobilizing against all others. Soon we had found dead soldiers, with their bodies tarnished by battle claws and their wings chopped off by the blades of bats. It was about that time that I was promoted to the most elite of the stealth-force units. This unit, called Glauxspeed, was in Lyze's division, of which he was the commander in chief. I served him directly.

"Lyze and his mate, Lil, made a beautiful couple in battle. It was as if they did not even have to speak. Their gizzards were so in tune, so harmonious, that they instantly knew what the other was thinking. Together, the were a fearsome team, along with me, and Lil's Kielian partner, Hoke of Hock. Everyone knew that if the war were to be won it would be because of them."

"So what happened then?" Soren asked.

Octavia sighed. "When the Pure Ones revealed themselves, Ifghar saw an opportunity to get what he wanted. Both he and his own snake, Gragg of Slonk, flew to the Ice Claws at the risk of death. Whole legions of Tyto soldiers were gathered on the talon-shaped ice flows, ready to lay seige to our lands as they did in the Southern Kingdoms. Impressed by his bravado, Metalbeak, or Surtr as he was widely known then, offered him a chance to prove his worth. Both Ifghar and Gragg assembled an army of rogue owls and pirates from the Lagoon of Moss to the Ice Dagger, their poisonous words convincing them of prosperous futures in return for serving Surtr. Ifghar's only condition was that he would recieve Lil as a mate after their victory.

Soren couldn't help but compare the relationship of Ezylryb and Ifghar, to that of Kludd and himself: Ifghatr envied his brother, and would have done anything to have it better than him.

"But hope was on the way. We had recieved word that the Guardians of Ga'Hoole had arrived, wanting to stop these vicious owls. They were welcomed as guests in the free kingdoms, and given all the provisions they would need. In the meantime, Lyze was bestowed with a great gift; battle claws made by the best blacksmith on Dark Fowl Island. They were the deadliest claws any of us had ever seen. His apprentice, Thora Plonk, sister to our tree's gifted singer, set up her own forge in the southern kigdom of Silverveil after the battle."

"Madame Plonk has a sister?"

"Yes; she was she was always the less gifted of the two, but that's another story. Anyway, we had found out of Ifghars treachery too late, and half of all the owls in the Northern Kingdoms flew against us. The Guardians, with our insistance, let the Kielian League fight alongside them, with Lyze leading the charge. I myself was paired up with a fierce Spotted Owl. Both side collided, and the air was filled with bloodshed. Owls were constantly dropping from the sky, their bodies crashing in the water below. Catapults sent barrages of flaming debris at us. This continued on for several days, between the fighting and resting. Then one day, when I was in the battle, I saw Ifghar and Gragg fly in with the red stripes of the Pure Ones. They both fought furiously against Lyze, taunting him of their impending victory. Lil was coming to his aid, then the worst happened; Surtr appeared out of nowhere, and Lil was mortally wounded. He nearly tore her in half. Ifghar went yeep, and Lyze went berserk."

"Good Glaux," Soren gasped.

"I saw both Gragg and Hoke try to keep their owl partners afloat in the water, while Lyze tried to attack Surtr. Unphased at first, that big brute of an owl continued his rampage, heading for me and my own owl. I was too busy yelling at Hoke to save Lil, when the self-proclaimed High Tyto swooped in, killed my parter and clawed my eyes out. It was pure luck that Lyze caught me, and we faced him together. Even without my eyes my senses had already hightened. We grappled with Surtr and Lyze was soon robbed of a talon. We flew straight up with that monster right behind us. When Lyze hovered, I told him 'Let him come, let him come', and he then lashed out with all his might. He had clawed most of Surtrs face right off. The air was filled with a piercing cry, and more were soon to follow. I could sense the enemies flying away as fast as they could, as the high tyto's body fell into the snow on one of the Claws. We had won, but at a cost; many Guardians, and Lil, had died, but Ifghar survived."

"What happened to him?" Soren had to struggle to ask, so shocked by the story.

"He is now but a shell of the owl he once was. Without Lil, he had completely lost his drive. Last I saw him, he was being nurtured as a harmless prisoner of war at the Glauxian Brothers retreat. Gragg is there too, always drunk on bingle juice. They'll never bother us again, I can assure you. After the battle, Lyze was depressed by his loss, and needed to recuperate. the Guardians offered him a place at the tree, where we've lived ever since."

Soren felt bad for Ezylryb after hearing all of this, and wanted to go think things over. As he tried to walk past Octavia, she said, "Don't fell bad, young'un. You didn't fo anything. Now come with me. You wouldn't want to miss Trader Mags when she gets here."

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><p><strong>Hardest chapter ever. Please review.<strong>


	41. Trader Mags

_Disclaimer: I do no own Legend of the Guardians or Guardians of Ga'Hoole. They belong to both Katheryn Lasky and Warner Bros._

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><p>The whole tree had been looking forward to the arrival of Trader Mags and her wares. There was a buzz of excitement as the owls roused themselves from their sleep in anticipation of the magpies around twilight. everyone was beyond excited, save for Soren, who still felt down after his talk with both Ezylryb and Octavia, and of course, the nest-maids, who considered magpies to be one of the fowlest of wet poopers. Still he felt like going, especially if his friends, or Pelli, would be there. Mags would be showing her wares all evening, so there was no rush.<p>

She was late and no one was more upset than Madame Plonk. From his hollow, Soren could hear her several branches above him on a lookout perch, waiting with several other owls. "If that bird was ever on time in her life, I'd dive into the sea like a petrel!" Madame Plonk was fuming. "She has no sense of time. Here it is past twilight, nearly First Black." But suddenly, curling out of the night, came a lovely warbling sound.

"It's the carol!" someone shouted, and a cheer went up. Mags was approaching and her caroling threaded through the night. The warble of magpies was known as a carol and was like no other birdsong in the world. He heard the owls now, swooping through the branches to the base of the tree where Mags would set up her latest collection, or her wares as she called them, for display. She came with several assistants, all noticebly smaller than herself.

There was a festive mood with much chattering and special treats that the cooks had whipped up. Bubo waddled forward and gave Mags a great hug with his wings that nearly knocked her over. She looked nothing like Soren had imagined. Her feathers were mostly black, the deepest black he had ever seen, though on her belly and back there were white streaks. Her wings and tail had a slight bluish tint to them. On her dark legs was a small metal band, with strange markings cut into it. She wore a jaunty bandanna on her head that threatened to fall over her eyes. "More where these came from, my dears!" she squacked.

Soren could have nearly been knocked over by that squack. How could the same throat that produced that lovely carol have a voice as raucous as a seagull?

"Come on now, don't be shy," Mags said. "Bubbles!" she squacked to another magpie. "Where're them sparklie bits for the Madame? You know the ones. And I got you some nice velvet, dear," she nodded to Madame Plonk, "ever so soft. Tassels, rassels anyone? Tie some crystals to them and yeh get yourself a good windchime...Bubbles! Get them crystals crystals on the double! I tell you, Boron, you can't get a good apprentice these days. How's the missus, now where she be?"

"Out substituting for the search-and-rescue chaw. She'll be back soon," said Boron.

"Ah, yes. Always good to go looking for other owls needin' your help. Does the gizzard good to know that there aremany kind owls in the world."

"Ha!" Bubo laughed. "If that ain't a pile of yarped pellets."

"Oh scram, Bubo," she replied merrily. "Get out of here with your yarping pellet talk. Remember, we're not fit to associate with you, we wet poopers."

"Now, Maggie. I ain't no snob and you know it. I never held that against you. I mean, you're different from seagulls, sweet gizzard."

"Don't you go 'sweet gizzarding' me, Bubo. But we _are_ different from seagulls, I'll say." She then flew over to Madame Plonk, presenting her with a velvet tapestry to drape over her high white shoulders.

Overhead, the search-and-rescue chaw was beginning to arrive, and Soren and Gylfie were looking around for whatever neat trinkets they liked. There were cloths that had been spread with a variety of items - a bright pocket watch, several broken pottery items, two unfied bullets, and a strange flower (these were just some of many items) that Soren paused to look at. "It ain't real," the little magpie, Bubbles, said.

"Well, if it isn't real, what is it?" Soren asked.

"It's a fake flower," Bubbles answered.

"But why have a fake flower?"

"It'll never die."

"Really?" Pelli had just walked up, making Soren's gizzard tingle. She looked quite fascinated with this flower, even if it wasn't real. But then Bubbles asked her what she could offer in exchange. The female Barn Owl started to look glum. Soren knew Pelli didn't have much, having been at Ga'Hoole for only a short time. The other owls had brought some of their personal belongings with them for trade, especially Madame Plonk. Soren looked back to a few of his own items and plucked a golf ball-sized rock with a bright chunk of gold running through it.

"Here," he held it out for Bubbles to see. "For the flower."

Bubbles looked as if she were about to feint. "Wow! It's a deal! Thank you dear, thank you! Oh, Mags is going to be so proud!" She took the rock in her beak and walked away. Pelli looked at Soren with both shock and undying gratitude.

"You really did that for me?" she asked.

"Sure, why not?" Soren said bashfully.

Pelli picked up the fake flower and stuck it in between her feathers. She then looked to Soren with grateful eyes and nuzzled her head under his chin. "Thank you," she said, and flew off.

Soren stood there, still feeling funny on the inside. He only came back to his senses when Gylfie came up and said, "Good job. She's in navigation with me and sometimes asks about you. She's very thankful for the tutoring you gave her."

Soren and Gylfie then joined Twilight along with Digger and Primrose. Primrose had traded one of her strung milkberry bracelets for a tiny comb. Twilight had gotten a man-made knife in exchange for a tasty fermented grape he had been saving. Digger had traded a very smooth pebble for piece of stained glass.

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><p>"There you are, Madame," Mags said as she showed Madame Plonk a pile of various shiny objects, "all you need to make a new whirlyglass."<p>

"Oh, Mags, what would I do without you?" she said. "You will be sticking around for the music, right?"

"Sure."

"Wonderful."

"You know, Madame," Mags said with a heavy heart as Plonk admired herself in a large mirror while wearing he new velvet cloak, "I kind of made a few stops on my way here."

"Oh, like where?" Madame Plonk asked, oblivious.

"I took a bit of a detour through Silverveil."

Madame Plonk stiffened a bit. "Really?" she asked, her mood heading downhill.

"Yeah," Mags said, "and we stopped at the old castle for a bit. Thora sent her regards...and this." She unwrapped a cloth to reveal a pair of sooty, rusted tongs. "She said they were out of use, needed a new set."

"And she gave them to me?" Plonk's voice trembled.

"She didn't want you to forget her," said Mags.

Madame Plonk tried her best to blink away a few stray tears. She hadn't seen her sister in years. While she had chosen the life of a harp singer, Thora had picked the life of a blacksmith. It seemed like she was destined to be a smith, from the moment she hatched. Madame Ponk was always the pride and joy of her family, while Thora was just the other hatchling. Of all the generations of Plonks born in the Northern Kingdoms, Thora was never cut out for singing, with her gravelly voice. Plus her feathers were gray as opposed to white. It was no wonder their step mother called her "splotch". After such a long time, Madame Plonk hated that she robbed from her what could have still been a successful future.

"I would never forget her, ever," Madame Plonk nearly chocked.

"I know, Brunwella," Mags said apologetically. "You know, your step-mother was always so cruel to her."

"I regret never noticing it."

"Don't beat yourself up. Besides, in the end she got what she deserved. She did try to betray your family after all."

"I know," Madame Plonk sniffed. "I can't say I miss her."

"Buck up, Madame," said Mags in a playful tone, "your sister loves yeh, and you can go on knowing that. Now how about you rally that harp guild of yours?"

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><p>The moon was beginning to slip away, and Mags had her wares packed up for transport. Soren had begun to wander around the tree, and sumbled along the great hollow that contained the harp. He looked inside, and saw the large instrument sitting in the center. Many owls where around, chatting thing up or sipping a drink. Madame Plonk stood behind it, preparing for a song. She looked a little bit down. Already the snakes were producing a warm melody, weaving through and plucking the strings. He could see Mrs. Plithiver around the G-flat, contented by her musical talent. As Soren felt the calming music wash over him, he felt a presence close to him. He looked to his left and saw that it was Pelli.<p>

"Oh, hey there, Pelli," Soren said awkwardly.

"Hey," she returned. She seemedvery at ease with the music. "Beautiful, isn't it? I've never really heard true music until I came to the tree. It's mezmorizing."

"You know," Soren said, "I hadn't really heard music unil I came here too. I mean Twilight did play his lute a few times, but his singing didn't quite count."

Pelli let out a cute little chur, which brightened Soren's spirit a little. With that dying down, she continued, "I never got to truly thank you for getting me that flower."

"Oh, it was nothing," Soren said meekly.

"But it is," she insisted, "Nobody's ever been as nice to me here as you have. Your little friend Gylfie and I get along well, but we don't hang out too much outside of navigation. And you did teach me how to read and write. I owe you a lot, Soren."

Soren's gizzard tingled again when he felt Pelli's talon overlapping his own. He heard the harp's G-flat note stop, and looked to see Mrs. P. grinning at him.

Suddenly, a low, but load noise rang out that seemed to echo through the hollow. The owls all looked around, wondering what was happening. Then the noise rang out again, and Soren recognized it as the gong he had seen before he arrived at Ga'Hoole.

"It's Lord Allomere!" somebody said. "He's returned!"

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><p><strong>Well, what did you think? Anyway, please review.<strong>


	42. A Sad Reunion

_Disclaimer: I do no own Legend of the Guardians or Guardians of Ga'Hoole. They belong to both Katheryn Lasky and Warner Bros._

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><p>The parliment owls, and many others, gathered at a landing platform as Aollomere slowly flew out of the fog. He looked weak, and was carrying something in his talons. As he alighted on the woven floor, the owls gathered around him with worried looks.<p>

"Quickly. Some help here," he said. "These owlets need attention."

Two matrons had arrived with a large basket, as Soren, Pelli, and Mrs. Plithiver had come to see what was going on. While Mrs. P. slithered in for a closer look, Soren noticed Otulissa in the crowd.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"Lord Allomere rescued two owlets in The Beaks," Otulissa responded, not taking her eyes off the sight, "it looks like he's hurt." Allomere limped past the both of them, a slighlty swollen wound near his right leg. "I think he ran into some of your "Pure Ones"." Otulissa began to look glum. "You know, I didn't really believe you before. I'm sorry."

Truly touched, Soren churred, "That's okay. _I_ wouldn't have believed me either."

Suddenly, a old voice shot through the otherwise quiet crisis. "Soren!" It was Mrs. P.. "Soren, come fast, It's Eglantine!"

Rushing forward, Soren pushed his way through the mass of feathers to see two young owls laying in the basket. One was what appeared to be Screech Owl, the one had seen often at St. Aggie's, and the other a Barn Owl with an almost completely grown-in plumage. If Soren ever saw his little sister again, she would porbably have looked much like their mother. Soren, feeling as tense as a bending branch, gingerly turned the owl over. Her face was much like his mother's, but smaller. She had the same little spot near her left eye as Marilla, but her eyes were now what scared Soren the most. They were milky, spiritless, and shaking.

As if he hadn't felt true pain before in his life, Soren's whole world collapsed in around him. His was exactly what he had feared the most about his sister and the Pure Ones. Clearly they had failed in turning her into one of them, serving as a soldier for a false cause. But this was worse. They had broken her; crushed her like an egg. The Pure Ones had ripped Eglantine's spirit right out of her, and now here she lay. soren was surprised he hadn't fallen over and sobbed right there.

"What can you do for her?!" Soren asked frantically, shaking like a leaf. He felt his legs collapse under him as he crumpled beside his sister.

"We'll do out best, son," Barran said soothingly, but her tone offered Soren nothing. The matrons lifted the basket into the air, headed for the medical hollow. Soren just stared, but eventually mustered the strength to fly after them.

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><p>Time began to have no meaning for Soren. What is day? What is night? How long had it been since Allomere had brought in Eglantine? At first he was numb, unable to do anything but stand and watch as Mrs. Plithiver along with other owl and snakes nurse Eglantine ceaselessly. Even Madame Plonk, who could't bear to see these youngsters in such a state, or her harp guild so worn out, stopped by every now and then to help.<p>

"Can you wake her up?" That was all Soren could say.

"I'm not sure, dear," Mrs. P. said honestly. "All we can do is try."

Finally, Soren began to help. He tried feeding her a bit of milkberry tea and in a low voice kept saying, "Eglantine, it's me, Soren. It's your brother, Soren. It's your brother, Soren." But Eglantine, with her eyes still couldly like mist, stared right through him like he was never there. There was aboslutely no recognition in her eyes. Soren had seen many owlets moonblinked like Eglantine, but her condition seemed more severe than most of the other owlet slaves. The Pure Ones probably put under the moon, before sending her to the moon blazing chamber. Soren sighed.

"Patience, dear. Patience," said Mrs. Plithiver. "All things take time."

Soren turned his head around to see Allomere, a pittiful look on his face. He had been in the infirmary for a time, the snakes using worms and leeches to heal his wound. "I'm very sorry, boy," he said, putting a large reassuring wing over Soren's shoulder. "I should have listened to you all those weeks ago. I guess there's something about the voice of a young'un that makes old fools like me not want to listen. But you were right, and I hope you can forgive me." Without looking back, he walked over to the mouth of the hollow and took to the air.

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><p>By the next evening, Eglantine showed no sign of change or improvement. She still spent most of her time laying down in the nest of moss and down the matrons had made for her, but was able to be propped up to walk around. Soren stuck by her around the clock, but he may as well have been watching over a stump. She did almost whatever he told her, such as eating her meals and drinking her tea. Under watchful eyes, Soren was allowed to lead her around some of the tree. Some of his friends came by to visit, who could only offer their sympathies. Primrose had come by just before Madame Plonk began her song, to show Eglantine some especially pretty berries she had strung.<p>

"See, Eglantine. Ever since I have been here, I've been collecting a few berries from each season. so I have white ones from winter and silver from spring, and now I've got my golden one from summer. When It's done, I'll make a necklace. And I'll make you one, too." But Eglantine did not respond. Primrose lowered her head in sad defeat.

Gylfie, meanwhile, did not know what to say. She felt desperately sorry for Soren. She knew that Soren had missed Eglantine so fiercely. But to have her back like this was almost worse than not having her back at all. Gylfie, of course, would never dare say such a thing to Soren. Just then, Otulissa poked her head in.

"May I come in?"

"Sure," Soren said.

"I've been in the library for quite some time, combing the shelves for anything related to moonblinking. I eventually found a copy of this book written by Strix Emerilla, a renowned weathertrix of whom I'm a direct descendent. She had been around many moonblinked owls in the time before Hoole's kingship, and described it herself. According to her, the prolonged exposure to the full moon has given your sister a metephorical blankness in both the gizzard and mind. It's as if she were shrouded in fog, so to speak." The Spotted Owl walked up to Eglantine for a closer look. " Right now, her brain in working at only a minimal capacity, on the body's most basic functions and instincts. She can definately hear us, but our words have little meaning. She will respond to most verbal commands tough, as her gizzard is not set properly."

"Well that's just great," Soren said sarcasitcally, "but what does it say about fixing her?"

"Well...uh...," Otulissa stammered, "apparently time is our only ally. Depending on how extensive her exposure was, it could take day, months, maybe years before the moonblinking wears off. Emerilla did mention, unfortunately, some owls never reverted back to normal."

"Well how is that suppossed to make me feel better?!" Soren half yelled. "My sister is right here, practically brainless, and all you're doing is talking about how this could get worse. you said so, yourself; she may never come back. It's not like you need to tell me this!"

The other owls were as silent as stones, shocked by Soren's outburst. Even Pelli, who supported him from the beginning, seemed mortified. Otulissa stood there, looking hurt. "I'm sorry. I just thought you might like to know what's making her this way. It's not like she doesn't want to remember you. She just can't help it," Otulissa said feebly. "I...I mean...I'm sure she still loves you." Her eyes looked as if they were about to water. "Oh, Glaux, I'm so sorry."

Soren looked around the hollow at the other owls, who, except for Gylfie, began to look apathetic towards him. Unable to find the right words, he sighed and walked out the hollow with his head held low and and took off silently. He flew and flew until he reached the very top of the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole, perching on the sturdiest branch. Through the light breeze he let a few tears escape as he gazed at the stars. His sister was moonblinked and he was yelling at his friends for it. They were not to blame: It was Metalbeak, and his Pure Ones who were truly at fault.

Just then, as the blackness of the sky began to give way to the morning, Soren saw a rather peculiar sight. The sky, it no longer looke like the sky, but now a great dark blue tarp stretched over empty space. And the stars suddenly appeared as holes in this tarp, which gave the impression that there was something on the other side. Focusing, Soren saw the stars/holes begin to widen, depicting a faded, yet clear image.

The young Barn Owl saw a forest, engulfed by flame against a blood-red sky. Fires like the ones he had flown into so many times, ate away at the trees like they were nothing. Animals of all shapes and sizes were fleeing, among them owls. Then suddenly, he could see Pure Ones. Pure Ones in full battle gear, slaughtering all the owls who attempted to fight back. Their corpses fell to the ground and were swallowed up by the fires. All Tytos seen in the mix, were subdued and inspected by soldiers. A long chain gang of non-Tytos, moonblinked or not, forced to pick pellets or forge weapons. In the crowd, he could see like Gylfie, Twilight, and Ruby.

Then there was the image of several owls, including what looked like both his parents, being held down by Vampire Bats, as Flying foxes, armed with wing blades, cut their wings to stumps. Amidst all the carnage, Soren saw both Metalbeak and Nyra, basking in their dark glory. They both looked back to see what appeared to be the Great Tree, looking dead and gloomy. A large owl, who Soren could not identify, stood on its highes branch, his siluoette screaming confidence and triumph. Then appeared two Barn Owls in Pure One armor, who reached back to undo their helmets. Their faces were that of Kludd and Elgantine, their eyes blazing with hate and bloodlust.

Snapping out of it, Soren lost his balance and fell several feet below, before catching a branch with his talons. Pulling himself up, he breathed heavily with confusion, disorientation, and horror. What had he just seen? What did it mean? he couldn't even hear the harp and goodlight song over his thoughts. But he knew that the best thing to do right now was rest, for now he felt far to exhausted to even speak. He lazily glided from his perch, and down to his hollow.

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><p><strong>Great chapter, right? Please review.<strong>


	43. Voices in the Roots

**Sorry it's been taking so long. I have a sinking feeling that each new upload will be further apart :(. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. The belong to Katheryn Lasky ans Warner Bros._

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><p>"Psst...psst," something hissed in Soren's ear.<p>

"Gylfie, what are you doing up at this hour?" Soren asked, groggy. "It's broad daylight. Are you yoicks?"

"Not at all." Soren could see that Gylfie was full of energy. "Soren, there's a very important meeting going on in the Parliment hollow."

"Of course."

"Soren, I think it's about the Pure Ones."

Soren was suddenly fully awake? "Really?"

"Yes. And Allomere is talking all about his expedition," said Gylfie.

"How do you know this? Did they let you in or something?"

Gylfie blinked and looked down at her tiny talons in embarrassment. "Look, I know it's not nice to eavesdrop, but I couldn't sleep and the cooks always offer a bit of food and tea. So i went down, and on my way back I just thought I'd take a different route, so I followed one of those deep inner passageways, very winding and naroow, but this one went down instead of up to the hollows. There's a spot where something happens to the timber of the Great Tree down there. It is very thin, and I could hear voices."

Intrigued, Soren stood up and stretched his wings and legs. He looked back to Eglantine, who still had the liveliness of a jellyfish. He had stayed with her all day and while he found Gylfie's report interesting, he wasn't keen on leaving his sister all alone. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm positive," Gylfie said, "and I already talked to Twilight and Digger. They'll be meeting me down there. Are you coming?"

"...Sure."

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><p>So the band of four, as quietly as possible, left the medical hollow with Gylfie at the lead. They left by the sky opening and glided a quarter of the way down the tree, where they entered a small opening that Gylfie had discovered, which twisted and turned, pitched and curled through the huge trunk of the tree, until the had wound around to the back side of the Parliment hollow and found themselves actually slightly beneath the hollow, in the root structure of the tree. It was not that the walls were thin, Soren realised soon. It was rather that the roots of the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole were transmitting the sounds, reverberating with each word.<p>

"The battle was ferocious; we were greatly outnumbered. I was only lightly wounded, thank Glaux, but the others...they were dead before i could do anything."

The four eavesdropping owls blinked in astonishment. It had to be Lord Allomere talking. Soren pressed his ear closer.

"By the time I had secured the two youngsters, I was forced to flee, using a nearby forest fire as cover. I don't think I would have made it out alive."

"Can you estimate the number of enslaved owlets, Allomere?" said the voice of what sounded like Strix Struma.

"Scores, I witnessed. There may be many more," they heard Allomere answer.

"And you believe this is part of a larger plan?" asked what sounded like Boron.

"It is certain. Your majesty, I doubt this would be the time for half-measures."

A long pause followed, and the Band felt both horrible tension in both themselves and the hollow. Finally there was, "Bubo...sharpen the battle claws. To arms."

"To arms, indeed."

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><p>The whole tree was ablaze with silent activity, as the Guardians prepared to mobilize. All the other owls were waiting worringly as they watched the warriors make their final preperations for takeoff. Soren, meanwhile, had flown up full speed to Ezylryb's hollow. He hadn't seen or talked to the old Whiskered Screech Owl since their talk several days before. But that hardly mattered to him right now.<p>

Squeezing through the hollow's entrance, he saw Ezylryb donning a new battle claw and a helmet, tying the leather straps with his beak. "Ezylryb! Lyze!" Soren said frantically, unsure of how to adress his mentor.

"Yes...to both," the old owl said calmly.

"Look, I have to go. You have to take me with you!" Soren begged. As much as he wanted to stay with Eglantine, he had been to St. Aggie's before, and new the rocky landscape well. With any luck, he might yet have proved himself a worthy asset in battle. He felt terrified of returning to that hagsmire on Earth, but the vision he had seen was soon changing his mind. And he had to admit, he was pretty excited to see Ezylryb preparing for battle.

"Oh, absolutely. An untrained youth like you could last a whole _minute_ in a real battle. Here." Ezylryb tossed two objects in Soren's direction, which clanked as they hit the floor of the hollow. They were a pair of battle claws, splayed out like deadly flowers. The young Barn Owl say that they were perfectly curved and serrated, with extraordinary engravings on them. "They were my old set back in the days of the Ice Claws," said the old ryb, "had e'm refurbished by the smith of Silverveil. I thought she would have liked to restore the battle claws of friend of her sister's. Besides, we could use the talon fodder; I'd love to throw some bodies at the enemy."

"But I'm...," Soren was about to say, but Ezylryb was already at the entrance, gripping a push dagger with his deformed left foot.

"_Or_," said Ezylryb, "you could stay here, tend to your sister, and do some real good." Soren felt the heavy decision weigh on his heart and gizzard. He wanted to help the Guardians, but Eglantine was still a vegetable. Both options were just as important as the other. But there was something else that needed to be considered...

"Wait...," Soren began, trying his best not to sound stupid or yoicks. "Last night, I saw something in the sky; it was like a dream, but I was awake. I saw the Pure Ones winning, taking over the owl kingdoms, and enslaving everyone in sight. What does it mean?"

Ezylryb paused, studying Soren carfully. "Well, I'll be damned. It sound's like you have what's called starsight."

"Starsight?"

"Yes, starsight. Much like the firesight that king Hoole had, giving him visions as he stared into flames. More often than not, it means something, but it depends on what _you_ think. However it sounds like you have a very important choice to make, Soren." The old owl's tone became bitter. "But what do I know? I'm just a tired old Screech." Then he was gone, flying in the wake of the Guardians of Ga'Hoole, leaving Soren to watch in wonder.

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><p><strong>Another fateful chapter. Please review.<strong>


	44. Reunion and Revelations

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. The belong to Katheryn Lasky ans Warner Bros._

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><p>It had been a day since the Guardians had left. The whole tree had been relatively quiet, and all chaws had been put on hold. Soren had taken up an almost sedentary position by Eglantine. The matrons had agreed to let him and Mrs. Plithiver stay by her as long as they wished, for they could not bear the awful sight of him pleading. His friends had stopped trying to make him leave to eat, and would often come up with food. Soren didn't care, though. Nothing could draw him from the fact that his little sister still hadn't come back to him.<p>

"You know, Eglantine," Soren choked, "I'd trade places with you if I could. I wish it were me lying there instead of you."

"Oh, Soren," Mrs. P. said with undying sympathy. She was just as heartbroken as he was. They knew Eglantine could hear them, but she had no processing thoughts or comprehention of her surroundings, whether she could see or not. Otulissa was right, she may as well have been dead.

"If only you could see this place for yourself, Eg," Soren began to ramble. "Da's stories were true. They're all true. The Guardians, and the Ga'Hoole Tree, the stories of Hoole and the wolves, the ember, they're all true. Even Lyze of Kiel. He's real, Eg," A few stray tears leaked from his eyes. "He's real."

It felt like Soren had stood there for hours. Though time was no longer important to him. He had to face fact; Eglantine was probably never coming back, like it or not. He had friends by his side, but nothing could cease the lonely feeling in his gizzard right now. But by some miracle, there was the sudden and unexpected chime of Eglantine's voice: "S...Soren?"

"Eglantine?" the Barn Owl whipped around.

"Soren. You promised..._I_ could be Lyze on the next go." The milky film on Eglantine's eyes had faded, giving way to her dark black pupils. She looked dazed and groggily tried to heave herself up from the nest. Behind her was Mrs. P. with the biggest grin of happiness Soren had ever seen. The bitter tears of anguish has sweetened with joy, as Soren lept to his sister's side and took her under his wings in a hug. She was back.

"Soren? Mrs. P.?" Eglantie said in a tired voice, "we're not at home, are we?"

"No, we're at the Guardians' tree, Eg. This is Ga'Hoole!"

"No; it can't be. Kludd, he..."

"Kludd was wrong," Soren interrupted blissfully, "da was right. He was right all along, Eg!"

Eglantine sat up. "No, I mean Kludd was_ there_, with me. He did this to me, Soren He's one of them."

Mrs. Plithiver gasped, and Soren found himself at a loss for words. Most of what Eglantine had just said barely resgistered to him, but he picked up enough of it to understand what she meant. "He what? No, Eg, you must be confused." He felt a rush of anxiety and fear. "It can't be. But still, thank Glaux that Allomere rescued you."

"I wasn't rescued; Kludd _gave _me to the owl that brought me here," Eglantine said with her head held low.

Certain she was refrring to the old ryb. Soren continued with a chur, "Eg, that's impossible. I mean, that would have to make Allomere a...a traitor." As much as he wanted not to think about it, his mind began racing to put togeter a puzzle. Lord Allomere had spent a long time out looking for the Pure Ones, wich could have taken less time with the coordinates given to him. And he had come back without his two suboordinates, who looked like they could have handled any Pure One. And lastly, he had come back with Eglantine, _specifically_ Eglantine. He could have grabbed any moon-blinked owlet, but no; it was her. and that was exactly what was supposed to happen.

"Oh no, it's a trap!" Soren realized. He spun around and dashed out of the hollow, leaving Mrs. P. and Eglantine to themselves. On the limb, he was about to spread his wings when Pelli suddenly appeared, looking confudsed.

"Oh, Pelli. What are you doing here?" asked Soren, regaining his balance.

"I thought I'd stop by and help you with your little sister. What are _you_ doing?"

"Egantine said she was given to Allomere by the Pure Ones. The Guardians are being led into a trap. It's a contingency!"

"Oh, Glaux."

"I have to get my friends and fly to the canyonlands," Soren continued. "We have to warn them before it's too late."

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><p>"Now this is the life!" Twilight boomed as he fastened the last leather strap of his battle claws. The Band had snuck into the Guardians' armory and were trying out whatever arms they could handle. They had each put on a set of battle claws and were considering what else to use. Twilight had selected only one battle claw and use his bare talon to grip his lute in. Digger and Gylfie had both picked full sets of claws, specifically sized for their species'. Soren, meanwhile, had taken the refurbished claws of Ezylryb, their serrated edges making even himself wilt slightly.<p>

"So, uh, whow do we get to this place?" Digger asked, tilting his head.

"We'll follow the Whale's Fin. It's where the Guardians would have gone. I'm sure of it," said Gylfie.

"You're not going anywhere," they heard the unmistakable voice of Otulissa. The Band turned around to see her, Shard, Martin, Ruby, Primrose, and Pelli, standing at the mouth of the hollow. The Spotted Owl's glare turned to a cocky smirk. "Not without us."

Though flattred and relieved, soren didn't want them to get involved in something that wasn't their problem. "That's great, you guys, but you don't know what the Pure Ones are like."

"Racdrops!"i snapped Shard. "Your our friends. And besides; we're all probably at this tree becasue of these Pure Ones, anyway. And you're gonna need plenty of backup."

"He's right. If this is your problem, we'll help you through it. That's what _you've_ done for us these past months," said Ruby.

"So we're going with you," Pelli said sternly as she marched up to Soren, "no questions asked."

"...Okay."

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><p><strong>Sorry for the delay. I've been trapped between school and driver's Ed. Please review.<strong>


	45. The Devil's Triangle

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. The belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner Bros._

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><p>The Band and their friends had set off post haste, with Gylfie at the lead. For the last day and a half, they had traveled via a high-altitude wind current that took them in the direction of the Whale's Fin, right towards the canyonlands. The owls had not come down to the ground even to sleep, finding a few minutes to nap while flying in a "V" formation. The had caught food, eaten, yarped, and relieved themselves all on the wing. Wasting so much as a second would delay their mission to warn the Guardians. Allomere would lead them into whatever trap the Pure Ones had set, and it would probably be most gruesome.<p>

Soren was probably the most nervous, next to Primrose. He had dreaded the idea of returning to St. Aggie's and the evil it harboured. But he knew that Guardians would be in trouble, and Kludd was still there. Despite what Egantine had told him, Soren still had to believe he could save his brother. He knew Kludd wasn't a bad owl. Maybe a troubled one, but not bad. With the hope still clinging to his gizzard, He pressed on into the horizon, focusing on nothing else.

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><p>It was an hours before First Black as a Sooty Owl stood guard on a rocky outcropping. He had been ordered by Stryker to watch for the Guardians to pass through as planned. He was rather dissappointed to miss out on watching them die, but they needed a distraction to corral them into the trap. Just as he thought this, the owl felt a sharp pain in his back, befor fading into nothingness.<p>

Ezylryb's skills as silently dispatching targets had not dulled in the least. With unmatched precision he had swooped in behind the Sooty guard and slashed him in the back with the dagger in his deformed talon. Peering over the edge of the perch, he signaled to Boron and the other Guardians hiding below. For the last half hour they had been sneaking through the landscape without being seen, taking out every guard they came across. Needless to say, these Pure Ones didn't make good lookouts. Allomere had failed to mention that.

Boron and Barran had led the others, either creeping along the ground or gliding through the ravines as they drew closer and closer to the center of St. Aegolius. They had been armed with the greates weaponry in the Great Tree of Ga'Hoole. Strix Struma had chosen twin shortwords instead of battle claws, which she trained with since adolescence. Bubo carried a chain flail, a hot coal serving as its business end. Elven brandished a worn stick specially modified for fighting with, and Dewlap had armed herself with a scimitar. The rest carried conventional battle claws which were now unlocked as the Guardians flwe over the enormous forest fire and out over the rocky plain with sparse spires. In the center, they could see a massing of owls, most of them small and fluffy. Owlets. Surrounding them were several Tytos, making them all stand together in a tight crowd. This is what the Guardians had come here for. Allomere and Soren had been right all along, and now it was the time to strike.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, six Flying Foxes appeared and flew straight for the owls. Their wings blades were sharp and their fur was streaked in red patterns that marked them as Metalbeak's honor guardsmen. The closest one flew straight for Boron, hissing, "Suffer, demon!" Instictively, the king reached out and caught the bat on the wing, stopping in mid-flight and tossed him aside. Strix Struma flew in and using her swords like a pair of scissors, sliced through the bats neck and severing his head.

Elvan had managed to out maneuver one Flying Fox and caught him in a headlock with his stick. The Barn Owl then twisted the mammal's neck until he heard a snapping noise and the lifeless body fell limply to the ground.

The largest bat, the chieftain, had managed to hold his own againt Dewlap, Sylvanna, and Bubo. They performed a four-way fencning match in middair above the owlets, who, in their moonblinked state, ignored them entirely. The chieftain slashed at Bubo's head, who ducked just in time to hear the blad sratch against his helmet. Ezylryb swooped in and lashed with a battle claw, but the Flying Fox blocked it and sent the smaller owl tumbling for a second.

Boron had by now alighted in front of the owlets and covered them with his wings, knowing they had to be protected. Just as he though the situation was over, movement caught his eye and he looked over to his right. Two bats, working in unison, pulled on the lever of a huge winch system, and a bright blue began to appear. Three metallic containers, like huge jaws, opened up to produce this bright aura. The Guardians had immediately sensed they were in trouble, and by the way the bats began snickering, they were in _deep_ trouble.

"Allomere!" Boron heard Ezylryb yell with shock. He turned to see the old Great Gray flying off, headed for a tall spire with a cave opening near the top. He tried to take off after him, but it was already too late.

The Guardians felt their strength leave them as the blue tendrils suddenly evenloped them with the force of ocean waves. They were sent tumbling o the ground, and their gizzards felt like they were being torn apart. They tried to get up, but their gizzards were so pained they were brought to the ground like lead weights. Movement was nearly impossible, and comfort was nonexistent. The Pure Ones had planned this from the beginning.

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><p>Out of reach of the Devil's Triangle, Allomere watched with awe and regret as the flecks were taking their toll on his fellow Guardians. He stood next to both Tarn, the zany Burrowing Owl, and the young Barn Owl named Kludd. He was having trouble digesting the sight of his "friends" in such pain. However, he kept telling himself it would be worth it.<p>

For as long as he could remember, Allomere had dreamed of power. But he often found himself at the bottom of everything, even in Ga'Hoole. For this he began to loathe his fellow Guardians, and wallowed in his resentment 'round the clock. However one night, chance had come to him in the form of an ancient enemy. It was true, he did not believe the rumors of Surtr and his metal mask, but he had soon thought otherwise when alone on a mission in Ambala. He had found a posse of Pure Ones led by Nyra and Metalbeak themselves. He had fought with the High Tyto in a one-on-one duel, both proving to be equally matched.

In the midst of the battle, Metalbeak could sense the misery in the Great Gray, and made a quick proposition. With the position he was in, he could serve as a valuable double agent against the Guardians of Ga'Hoole. In return, he was promised with rulership over Ga'Hoole once a master plan he had been conjuring up destroyed the Guardians once and for all. Allomere was skeptical at first, but with such an offer, he gave in and agreed to cooperate. For several years, he had helped raiding parties of Pure Ones plunder owl communities, securing hatchlings and killing any warrior that opposed them.

But deep in his gizzard, Allomere could sense that Metalbeak and Nyra, especially Nyra, gave off a foul feeling of dread. Metalbeak, in all his malicious, mutilated glory, reeked of evil and tyranny. But Nyra had something else, something perhaps even worse. He couldn't describe it, but the old Gray felt like he were in the presence of a hagsfiend. They had not roamed Earth since the time of Hoole, killed off in the great wars long ago. But there were whispers of those who survived in spirit, living in the form of other animals. It sounded ridiculous, but it sure felt that way. He had heard Nyra had hatched under an eclipse, which supposedly cast a charm over an owl. This charm either resulted in a ritcheousness inlike any other, or a terrible, terrible evil. Was it true?

Seeing the Devil's Triangle, perhaps. The Pure Ones had learned of the fleck's powers from the bats, who used their powers to ward off predatory birds that would find an opportunity to catch and eat one of them. After fully understanding the flecks, Metalbeak demanded construction of the Devil's Triangle, a weapon used only once in Hoole's time. The three containers woul unleash the wekening effects in concentrated area, incapacitating any bird caught in the aura. And with the Guardians of Ga'Hoole finally in the trap, it would be time for phase two of the Pure Ones' master plan.

"Oh, Allomere," Nyra mocked the old owl as she noticed his discomfort. "Is it different, when you_ see_ the consequences of your betrayel?" She was obviously enjoying this.

"Must it be _bats_ that bleed them?" Allomere asked with disgust.

"Of course. They have no gizzards to be impared by the power of the flecks." She looked over to Metalbeak, why was watching as stoical as a rock. "Now, my love?"

The old Sooty churred. "It would be cruel to make the wait any longer."

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><p><strong>Please read and review.<strong>


	46. Trusting Your Gizzard

**Sorry for the long wait. I've been editing a few thing on my latest fanfic, and I've had to redo a few thing for school. But enough about me, enjoy the text!**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of the Guardians or the book series. The belong to Katheryn Lasky and Warner Bros._

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><p>"I see something," Digger said as the party of owls passed over a small chasm. They had arrived in the canyonlands just hours ago, and were headed for what appeared to be a gigantic, distant fire. Soren remembered catching a glimpse of it when he and Gylfie had escaped from St. Aggie's. They knew they were in the right place. those thoughts, however, momentarily went astray when the young Burrowing Owl noticed a shiny object below.<p>

Soren looked down and saw the dull glint of a Pure One battle helmet against the rocky surface, next to the body of a fallen Sooty Owl. He made a banking turn and descened to the ground, his battle claws clinking as he landed. The other landed as well, with some simply hovering in the air. "They were here," he said as he observed the corpse. He had been killed just recently, and by the way he was positioned, had been taken by surprise, with no struggle. Soren the turned around and noticed the rising black clouds over the distant forest fire. "We should go check out that smoke."

They flew low over the shallow river, past the many hills of stone and dead trees. As the owls drew closer and closer to the flames, they caught sight of a faint blue glow to their right behind a low uplift. "What in Hagsmire is that?" Ruby asked reflexively.

To both Soren and Gylfie, this light seemed somewhat familiar. They hoped it wasn't, but soon sinking feeling made its way into their gizzards. "I think I know," said the tiny Elf Owl. "I just hope I'm wrong. We have to go see."

The band and their friends glided to the top of the uplift, behind its ridge, and landed just at its edge. What they saw next left them utterly stupified. The flat plane in front of them was alive with a huge corona of blue energy. It was shaped like a crude orb, layered with flowing tendrils that occasionally lashed out like lightning. They could see the three elevated metal contraptions, from which the aura seemed to pour out of. In the very center on the ground, the band's ken eyesight made out what had to be the Guardians of Ga'Hoole, almost completely immobilized. soren already knew that it was the flecks doing this, and his questions of what the Pure Ones needed them for was finally answered.

The other owls stared in shock and amazement. The smaller ones, like Martin and Primrose, wilted and trembled at the sight. Otulissa, Shard, Pelli, and Ruby, stood statue-still with their beaks hung open.

"It's a Devil's Triangle," Otulissa finally said, both dumbstruck and somewhat amazed.

Shard looked at her with a puzzled look "A _what_?"

"A Devil's Triangle: An ancient superweapon used by the hagsfiends in the time of Hoole. They had non-avian servents gather small magnetic metals and configure them in a triangular pattern. Once the lids of their containers were opened, the Triangle could immobilize any bird caught in it."

"Well that's fascinating," Twilight rushed, "but right now I'd like to focus more on rescuing our Guardians."

"No, wait!" Gylfie stepped in front of Twilight, Shard, and Ruby as they took a stance for takeoff. "You can't go over there."

The big Great Gray huffed. "Well we can't just leave them there, writhing in pain." He pondered. "_Can_ we?"

"Of course, not," said Ruby. "We have to do _something_,"

"She's right," Shard added.

"No, you don't understand. When we were at St. Aggie's, we saw the affect these things have on a bird. They do something terrible to your gizzard. Isn't that right, Soren?"

Soren, however, wasn't listening. He had been to busy staring at the forest fire off to the right. It seemed that the Devil's Triangle had been built rather close to the burning trees, pratically at the border next to a system of winches and pulleys that presumably held it open. Yet there was something rather peculiar happening. The aura of the Triangle had a radius that stretched slightly beyond the metal containers. But at the edge of the fire, the blue energy stopped, like there was some sort of invisible wall in between. Then a rather large waft of fire blew into the mix, and the flecks' energy retreated. It was the fire! Fire was the key! He spun his head around and looked at the old oil lamp he had seen earlier, hanging from a jutting piece of rock.

Suddenly, Soren snapped back to reality by a loud, piercing shriek that rattled his bones. It was the unmistakable sound of a Barn Owl screeching. The rest of the owls froze, and all looked ahead. The scream had come from a tall, weathered spire from across the Triangle, and they saw fuzzy movement. Soon to follow, was the sound of leathery snaps and repetative squeaks. They were bats. Vampire Bats. A lot of Vampire Bats. And they were flying straight for the Guardians!

"Uh...Twilight," Digger said nervously, "we've got bats inbound."

"Not to worry," Twilight said triumphantly, "I can down a hundred of those bloodsuckers."

"Well, how about a_ thousand_?" the Burrowing Owl continued as the cloud of bats grew and grew. The rest of the band was beginning to wilt slightly. Primrose appeared the most frightened, firmly planting herself behind Otulissa.

"Well we won't find out sitting on our tail feathers, will we?" Twilight declared as prepared to fly again. Gylfie stepped in front of him and flailed her wings.

"Wait! Just wait!" she begged.

"That's it," Soren suddenly blurted out for all to hear.

"What's it?" Primrose asked shakingly.

"The flames. I think I see a way to free the Guardians."

"What? No, Soren, you can't fly into fire!" Pelli snapped.

"She's right; you can't" added Gylfie, who sounded just as worried.

"Look I need to trust my gizzard. Twilight, can you and the others take care of the bats?"

"Friend, I'll give you as much time as I can. But hurry, and be careful."

"No!" Pelli ordered. "Soren I won't let you kill yourself in there!"

Soren was feeling desperate right now. He knew what he had in mind was the only solution, but the risk was very high. This would only be the fourth time he had flown into a forest fire, and this time there would be no help from the rest of his chaw. Yet it had to be done. He stepped forward and met the other Barn Owl face to face. "Pelli, I've flown into fires before, so I know what I'm doing. Look, I know this is probably vey yoicks or even suicidal, but I don't see any other way to turn off that Devil's Triangle. I'm trusting my gizzard on this, but I need you to do the same. Can you?"

Pelli paused for a minute, obviously battling with both her brain and gizzard. She looked like she would cry soon, but she came back to her sense and said, "Yes. I can."

"Then let's go!" Shard hollared with a warrior's cry, as the others flew off towards the approaching swarm of bats. Now alone, Soren lept of to the oil lamp and gripped its handle in his talons. But he soon found to his frustration, that it had been binded in place with a leather strap. He quickly slice through it and the lamp came free, spilling a few drops of precious oil in the wheeled around with his load and flew straight for the fire.

Some distance away, the young owls minus Soren flew as fast as they could for the oncoming Vampire Bats. They were all scared, especially Primrose and Martin. Digger was feeling none too brave right now, either.

"Twilight, we might die here tonight, "the quirky Burrowing Owl said, "You're going to have to sing your best battle song ever."

The Great Gray sputtered. "What?" Twilight, for all his time with Digger, had heard nothing but sarcastic remarks or direct insults from him on his musical talent. Perhaps it was the fear of death, or the heat of the imminent battle, but either way, Twilight liked the sound of it.

"No, I'm serious," Digger pressed. "Give us your bravest, most inspiring battle song ever."

"Brilliant idea, Digger!" The big owl boomed. He took the lead and began plucking the string of his lute, careful not to slice them with his battle claw. In between which, the first Vampire Bat came within striking distance, and Twilight bashed it out of the way with his instrument. From there he began singing:

_Into battle, we do fly_

_No matter if, we're going to die_

Digger gave his old friend a baffled and worried look as he knocked an attacking bat to the side. "That's supposed to be inspiring?!"

"Now wait, we haven't gotten to the best bit!" Twilight yelled over the bats' flapping wings. Soon the little creatures had swarmed all around them, and the owls began to fight as hard as they could. Shard managed to grab two bats at once and clunked their heads together, before dropping them and slashing with his battle claws. Ruby was using her trademark speed to down as many of them as she could. she even grabbed on bat and thre him into another.

Gylfie and Martin were covering each other as best they could. They were about as big as the bats themselves, and could only fight off one at a time. Close by, Otulissa and Pelli were working in unison to corral several bats and proceeded to slash at them.

Primrose, meanwhile, was tring to avoid any form of conflict. She dodged the bats that came her way, flying in the most advanced maneuvers she had been taught. One bat that was chasing her, became confused by the eye spots on the back of her head, and became so dizzy it dropped right out of the sky. But another one came fright for her head-on, and the little Pygmy Owl found herself spinning around in circles the vicious mammal, feet locked together and wings flapping wildly.

Primrose shireked as the bat hissed and bared his fangs at her. But as if by insinct, or pure impulse, Primrose reached forward with her beak and bit thebat right on his fleshy nose. He sreeched in pain, before breaking off and flying away as fast as his wings could take him. Primrose churred to herself, bfeore her new drive to fight tooke her to her next adversary, as she heard the next verse in Twilight's song:

_A nasty scary death,_

_That hurts quite a lot_

_Even if our wings are ripped clean off!_

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><p>Metalbeka and Nyra watched with surprise and rage as the sudden arrival what appeared to be more Guardians, began to put a notable dent in their scheduled plan. they could some of their Vampire Bats flying away in terror, especially from the Great Gray, whose booming voice could be heard from their throne.<p>

"No! No!" Nyra yelled with defiance. She glared at allomere, who looke more worried than confused. "You said you would bring _all_ the Guardians!"

"But...they're not Guardians!" Allomere defendend, realising the situating himself. They were the other owls the one named Soren had arrived at the tree with, and a few others he recognized. It took no genius to understand that they had seen through his rouse, and had come to save the Guardians of Ga'Hoole.

"_Soren_," the young Barn Owl Allomere had met earlier, Kludd, seethed with dreadful contempt as he stood next to him.

"They have no chance against the flecks," said Metalbeak, calm yet angered. He looked right at the old Great Gray and said, "Still, I don't think we can trust you anymore, Allomere."

Allomere's anxiety was replaced with anger, and he ruffled his feathers, taking a defensive step forward. "No. No, you promised me, you promised me I would be king of the tree!"

In front of him, Tarn, the Burrowing Owl under Nyra's command, screeched loudly, and four Flying Foxes grabbed at Allomere from behind. He screamed from shock and pain as their wing blades cut into his flesh, while they dragged him back into the mouth of a small tunnel in the rock. His echoing screams faded as he disappeared from view, replaced by the sound of metal scraping against rock.

Metalbeak simply churred. "You should know Allomere; there is only room for _one_ king."

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><p><strong>Let me know what you think, everyone. I still can't believe this story is coming to an end.<strong>


	47. To the Rescue

**So sorry for the delay. I wish I could have done this earlier, but my Code Lyoko fic has much higher demands. But that's not what you came to read about, was it? And I'm ranting, aren't I? 'groan' Never mind, just read.**

_Disclaimer: I sadly do no own Legend of the Guardians or Guardians of Ga'Hoole._

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><p>First one, then two, then ten. Twilight was beginning to notice a few bats outflanking him as he and his companions tried to hold back the horde. He flew to the closest one and reached out to grab it, but stopped mid-flight. The energy of the Devil's Triangle was too powerful to risk, and Twilight watch with defeat as the bats flew into the blue corona unphased.<p>

The swarm began to gather around the fallen Guardians, famished for the taste of blood. They began circling around each owl, reating a dark moving carpet that looked ast though it had several holes in it. In their minds, this was the day of retribution against owls and all birds that killed and ate their kind. Bats had the strongest colonial bonds of any flying creature, and they took the slaying of their kin with extreme sorrow and anger.

As the last of the bats made it through the small gauntlet, Soren was preoccupied with his own dilemma. He had flown into fires before, but not quite like this. The fires he had collected coals from were young, with plenty of clearings where an owl may land and collect he precious embers. This one had to have lasted for days, mabye everything except the dirt appeared to be engulfed by the flames. Most would consider this suicide.

But Soren knew to trust his gizzard. _Only_ his gizzard. If he performed this daring plan with pure instinct, it would be the same as that time he had flown into the gutter. As he rapidly descended to the largest opening in the inferno, he remembered what Ezylryb had said not too long ago; _Use your gizzard, boy. Fly inside._ And just like that night, he did. The young owl breathed deeply and let his gizzard do the rest.

he swooped in below the crowns, just missing a falling tree. There was no heat, no roar, no other feeling at all. Relying on the wild currentsof heated air to glide, Soren banked with a firey wave that formed on his starboard side. te was moving faster than he could think, if he were thinking at all. As the fire began to fully encompass him, the young Barn Owl leg his legs, which held onto the oil lamp, dangle into the blaze. The flammable mixture ignited on contact, pratically turning the entire object into a fireball.

The current of flames was getting tighter, to which Soren responded by folding in his wings and letting the thremal draft take him. It angled upward and shot him out skyward. Spinning like a bullet through a well-rifled barrel, Soren went over the huge mountain of stoen in front of him and hovered as he reached the top. Below him was the Devil's Triangle, its horrific majesty soon to spell the early graves of the Guardians. That was evident from the swarms of bats gathering around them and beginning to nibble at their feathers.

Tucking in his wings like a falcon, Soren divebombed down to the nearest fleck container. It was only seconds before he entered the blue aura, a sudden weight on his gizzard creeping up on him. Waves of pain washed over him so fast, he thought he might explode. Despite the pain and difficulty seeing, Soren maintained his dive, relying on gravity to bring him closer to his target. Behind him, the burning oil seemed to tear a seam in the flecks' energy where it touched.

Over a thousand eyes, both owl and bat, turned to the Barn Owl as he came down further. By now he was close to the container, and glimpes the winch that held it open. He knew he couldn't destroy this weapon, but turning it off was the easiest option. He spreas his wings wide and veered off, throwing the lamp down with all his might. Down it went, smashing into a thousand pieces as it impacted againts the gears and ropes. Its molten contents ate away at the frail material, causing the entire ssytem to fall apart.

Soren landed painfully on the rocky ground, sliding along until he came to a stop right next to Ezylryb. The weakened Whiskered Screech strained to turne his head, muttering his pupil's name in acknowledgement. There were huge metallic thuds as the lids to the fleck containers fell shut, unable to function without their trigger. Around the Guardians, many of the bats were stricken with terror, taking to the air and flying away. The blue aura then vanished.

Though weak, Ezylryb crawled over to the exhausted Barn Owl and nudged him. "Come on, Soren. That was exemplary, but we're not finished yet, boy," he grumbled. Even if he didn't show it, the old owl could not have been more proud of one owl, much like a father would be for a son.

"Quickly, my brothers!" the Vampire chieftain hissed. "We can still have them!" With the sky filled with fleeing bats, only several had remained, now making their way for the gaggle of moonblinked owlets. Out of nowhere, Gylife, Martin, and Primrose flew in, tackling the nearest mammal in their reach. They formed defensive postures and placed themselves between the chieftain and the owls.

Clearly outnumbered, Digger hopped in between his friends and their assailants. "I bet you didn't count on this!" He turned around and kicked his talons back rapidly throwing dirt and debris in the bat's direction. In the confusion, they did not see Twilight or Shard land in their ranks, knocking them this way and that with their wings. As the little creatures made their escape, The rest of Soren's friends alighted, tending to their teachers.

Pelli was immediately by Soren's side, helping him stand back up. "Thank Glaux you're alive," she nearly sobbed. Soren regained his stability as he felt her against him. But Soren was more attentive to the Guardians of Ga'Hoole as they hauled themselves to their feet, all staring at the distant throne room of Metalbeak. The faint beats of ragged, unkempt wings reached their ears as several dozen Pure One soldiers erupted from the mouth of the high cave opening. From here Soren could see that Nyra was leading the charge, in a final assault to finish off their enemies.

"Guardians," said Boron, "we must uphold our oath. To battle!" In an isntant, the owls were airborne, flying straight for the oncoming attackers. Shard, Twilight, Ruby, and Otulissa followed suite. As Soren spread his wings, Ezylryb, who had hesitated, turned his head around. "I need you to stay here, and guard these owlets."

Soren was conflicted, but he remembered what Eglantine had been like when she was moonblinked. So frail, so vulnerable; these youngsters were no different. With the sense of doing real good in his gizzard, he walked back as stood next to Pelli, Gylfie, Primrose, Martin, and Digger. Together they watched as the grand battle before them unfolded.

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><p><strong>Almost done! Please review. And make sure you have a happy new year!<strong>


	48. Fight to the Finish

**So sorry for the delay. Things have been distracting me as of late.**

_Disclaimer: I sadly do no own Legend of the Guardians or Guardians of Ga'Hoole._

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><p>The owls collided together in a flurry of feathers, flesh, and metal. The Guardians were outnumbered three to one, but not even that seemed to deter them as they slashed an parried at their enemies. They Pure Ones made very basic offensive and defensive moves, such as voilent slashing and headbutts, or simple blocks. Even as the odds were stacked against them, the owls of Ga'Hoole practically fought against every owl at once, never staying on one target for long as they swooped and rolled around each other.<p>

Nyra's style of fighting was similar, if not less refined. She battered Elvan and Bubo out of the way with her bare talons, sending specks of blood and down feather into the air. She banked back and came in for another strike, avoiding the flail and battle claws and landing another hit to both the Guardians. Just above her, there was the booming churrs of Twilight as he clubbed the living daylights out of Jatt and Jutt, tag teaming with Shard in the merciless assault.

Several Pure Ones flew in formation, three of them quickly taken out by Barran, Dewlap, and Poot. The on. As the remaining Pure One, a sooty, escaped the attack, he flew straight for Ruby in a headbutt. The Short-Eared Owl saw the incoming adversary and with her unmatched flying abilities, outflanked him and raked her battle claws deeply into his back. The owl, crippled by his spinal injury, fell straight down to Earth, screeching.

Boron was suddenly caugh off guard as two Tytos caught him by the wings, another clasping their talons to his and using gravity to secure their capture. The king was now literally being held up in middair as a Maked Owl flew for him with a headbutt. With the rushing adrenaline and his sharp wit, Boron pulled hi eft wing inward, jerking the Grass Owl that held it into the path of the feather projectile. Their heads collided with a brilliant _clang_ as they fell. The huge Snow Owl shook the other owl loose from his wing and executed a full flip, using the Pure One grasping his legs as a blundgeon to clobber them both. He hovered, not seeing the crazy Burrowing Owl, Tarn, swooping in from behind. Before the crazy bird could sink his cold metal into the Snowy's back, he was knocked away by the speeding form of Ezylryb. Tarn was dazed for a moment, watching the Whiskered Screech fly off to Metalbeak's lair, and flew off to find an easier target.

Barran and Elvan got caught fighting against several Pure Ones at once, and no backup seemed to be readily available. But suddenly, a huge brown shape, tipped with a streak of white, came out of nowhere and took out two Tyto soldiers at once. It was a Bald Eagle! A second eagle, larger than the first, arrived and performed its own devetating attacks againt the Pure Ones. The Guardians were not sure just who these two eagles where, but Twilight could tell it was Streak and Zan, the two caretakers of Hortense.

"Who are you?" Boron asked as he and the male eagle flew in unison, killing a few more attacking owls that made a move for them.

"My name is Streak," said the eagle. "My mate Zan and I have come to help. We are friends of Soren."

"Soren?" Boron asked in surprise as he slashed at a random Grass Owl.

"That's correct. Another old friend of his sensed that he was in danger, and needed our help. It is our pleasure to deal with these evil beasts."

"Then you're welcome to!" Boron hooted joyfully.

Strix Struma was busy fencing with a Sooty Owl as they twirled around each other. The Pure One tried to grab the daggers out of her talons, but the old Spotted Owl was simpky too quick to be disarmed. As soon as her opponent struck, the slashed across his breast once, a trail of blood flew one way as the Sooty Owl's body went another. As Strix Struma flew back into the fray, she did not see the moon-faced Barn Owl swooping down from above.

"NOOOOOOO!" The sky was pierced with an anguished screech of defiance. Otulissa watched helplessly as Nyra viciously tore into her favorite ryb and role model's vulnerable back, sending feathers and blood everywhere. Several other guardians caught a glimpse of the horror, but where powerless to help as well. Strix Struma's lively brown eyes seemed to fade as her life force left her, and her body fell end over end into the shallow river below.

With a sudden burst of furry, Otulissa's plumage flared out, making her appear twice her normal size. She flew straight for the evil Barn Owl at full speed, her battle claws brought forth to rend the haggish brid's flesh. Nyra was caught off guard but managed to block Otulissa's attack, until one of her talons slipped and a single claw to raked across her face. Nyra shreed in pain as she tried fending off the furious Spotted Owl, finding herself slightly overwhelmed by her attacker's wild abandon.

"Wortmore! Stryker!" Nyra beckoned, holding off Otulissa as the two Barn Owls came in to strike. Nyra slipped away as the young owl bravely fought against the new enemies. Stryker kept Otulissa busy while Wortmore prepared for a headbutt, flying some distance for the proper momentum. However, the enraged owl knocked Stryker away with her left wing and flew at Wortmore before ducking under him and slicing across his belly, killing him.

From his spot by the moonblinked owlets, Soren watched as all of this played out as it had in his stories. This was the true nature of war, in all its bloody glory. But now the worst of it had come to light. One of the Pure Ones, a Barn Owl, had his helmet knocked off by one of the Guradians, and his face could be seen from that distance. It was Kludd. Soren watched with horror as he saw his brother continue fighting, trying to hurt and kill the Guardians of Ga'Hoole.

_I can still save him. I have to,_ Soren thought, and he took off without a word. He could here Pelli call after him, but ignored her entirely. The mass of owls drew closer, forcing Soren to dodge between them. He nearly got sliced up by a few blades and claws here or there, but kept pressing on to find Kludd. But as quickly as the young Barn Owl had seen him, Kludd had suddenly vanished.

Soren's keen hearing suddenly detected the familiar flapping of Kludd's wings approaching from the left. He looked just in time to see Kludd swooping down on him, wings spread and battle claws unlocked. "Kludd!" Soren called to him, but it was too late. Kludd grabbed Soren by the feet, the edges of his claws digging into the skin between his toes. With his superior strength, Kludd swung Soren all the way around and released his grip, flinging his younger brother toward the forest fire.

Soren's body tumbled as he sailed through the air, the roar of the fire filling his ears. His instints overtook him as he fell below the blazing crown of trees, catching a large branch with a talon. He felt the heat on his feathers and skin, but he knew he had to gather himself before he could fly off. And shortly after her he had secured his perch, he could here Kludd's voice right behind him.

"Hello, _brother_."

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><p><strong>Could have been better, I guess. Please review anyway.<strong>


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